A Tale of Emerlad
by Deltoxxx
Summary: His seat on the Express remained empty. Ginny sat opposite Ron, clad in the robes of the church, hands and eyes closed in prayer. In the silence that follows, Ron gazes out the window and daydreams of the past. He sees those for who his sister prays. A foolish man, and an esurient woman. But in the dim light of the window, he sees that which forces his eyes shut. Summary continued*
1. Prologue Part One

Heavy AU, Mild Nasuverse-Crossover, Picks up in Fifith Year right after the Goblet of Fire. A lot of inspiration was taken from the Soulsborne series. Darker world with a quality over quantity outlook on magic. Realistic pairings. Some basic type-moon series info would be helpful, but you dont need to know anything specific. My attempt at something you don't really see anymore.

**Summary**: Harry's seat on the Hogwarts Express remained empty, occupied only by a handful of goodies Ron had brought with him for the journey. Ginny sat opposite him, clad in the black robes of the church, her hands and eyes closed in silent prayer. The chill will remain in the compartment throughout the journey. In the silence that follows, Ron gazes out the window and daydreams of the years past. He sees those missing and lost, the poor few for whom his sister prays. A foolish man with dark skin and light hair, and an esurient woman with blood running down her lips.

But reflected in the dim light of the window, he sees that which forces his eyes shut and dreams to an end. Yet in his mind's eye the vision continues, and he sees a burning wheel turn for the first time in nearly three thousand years.

Authors Note: I have no idea how to fit this in but the Protestant Reformation never happened here. No Church of England. Shoo now and don't ask me why.

Authors Note 2: It would be nice if you guys knew what the Bronze Age Collapse was. Or just knew when it happened. You don't have to know but it wouldn't kill you to open a history book sometime.

**Prologue Part I: Distressed Instabillity**

**September, 1995**

She couldn't stop blinking. Her vision was blurry with tears, and her throat yelled hoarse and dry. She felt immobilized by invisible tendrils that crept all over her, burrowing into every single crevasse. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as tiny fingers wriggled their way through every open orifice.

Then it was over, and she was annoyed. Scrubbing her hair with a wet brush in front of the bathroom mirror. She blinked, and began to wash out the paint.

Soap and water just couldn't get the rest of the bright white paint out of her grey hair. And she had precious little time to spare as it was. Ringing out her hair and drying it quickly with a towel, she only spared a second to put on a bit of makeup to hide her crows-feet.

With a sigh she made for the bar. Matilda had just about had enough for the day.

In the morning both children had decided to skip out on their chores, leaving her alone to handle the entire breakfast. Then, a guest had vomited all over the best bench in their little garden. While she was fetching cleaning supplies she'd found, to her surprise, a little baggie of some strange white powder. It'd given her a quick scare, but now it was safely stowed under her lamp. She'd thought of calling the police, but if it was David's then she didn't want to get him into too much trouble. She was thankful that her husband hadn't found it. He'd have blown his kettle, and poor David...

"Excuse me, can I get another?"

She snapped back into reality, responding on instinct, "Of course love."

Taking the patron's glass, she noticed the smug look in his green eyes, with a strange quality to it that she didn't particularly care for. They were his only attractive feature, Matilda noticed as she poured from the tap. The boy was rather athletic, or at least looked to be under his strange clothes, but she didn't much like his dark skin and sharp features.

Handing him back his glass of stout, she smiled and said, "Having a nice stay dear?"

Green eyes danced behind oval glasses, "It's great. Don't ask questions though, I don't like it."

Matilda smiled and nodded, with her hand moving on its own. She hadn't stopped cleaning the counter she noticed. The wood was filthy, but as she worked she began to worry about David.

If he had been abusing those things at work, it'd explain his performance lately. Her eyes fluttered back to the lone patron. He seemed to be hard at work writing. No, maybe sketching? She didn't recognize any of the letters. Maybe he was some hoodlum planning out his next 'wall-tag'. He certainly looked the type, she thought as she threw the torn rag in the trash. As she bent down to seal the trash bag, her hand instinctively went up to the burning itch in the crook of her neck. She wiped her damp, red fingers on her apron as she stood.

Matilda turned towards the boy, and for the first time noticed just how plastered he was.

"Don't you think you've had enough dear?" she asked with a slight hint of uncertainty. Her throat felt raw, and she longed for a drink herself.

The boy looked up from his notebook, momentary surprise clouding his thin features, "Why are you-"

He stopped himself and turned to intently stare in her eyes. Abruptly, she recalled David. Poor David, a variety of illicit substances had practically served as his foster parents. How often had he been in this same spot, drunk and wasting away with his head slumped over the table.

Her neck began to burn, and she turned away her gaze as the green in his eyes began to glow. Her head felt cloudy and she steadied herself by gripping the counter. Her breath came out in shallow gasps as she struggled not to heave.

"You ask that a lot, huh?" he asked without pause. He downed the rest of his beer, and stood up.

He began to gather his things, packing them into the side bag he carried, "It's alright, you can breathe. Just try and *relax*."

Her body seemed to relax at his words, and she shakily took her hands of the counter, "Oh goodness, I'm not sure what came over me."

"It's alright," the boy replied, "I'm a doctor, let me have a look."

Without waiting for a response, he took her by the hand. His fingers were far rougher and stronger than they'd first appeared. Matilda blinked, but made no move to resist. She blinked again and the lights of the bar were suddenly cut off. She wasn't in the bar anymore, and the scent of freshly cut grass flooded her nostrils.

In the darkness, she saw the glare of oval glasses and bright green eyes underneath. His hand roamed over her, up to her elbow, where it slipped under her shirt. Gently guiding his hand above her breast, he slipped it onto the center of her chest. His fingers found something hard, and abruptly pulled.

Pain flooded Matilda, but only for a moment. Her eyes slowly began to close as a chilling numbness spread like a web through her body. The last thing she saw were a pair of glowing green eyes.

She woke with a start, never having fallen asleep in the first place. Shaking her head to rid itself of the fog, she turned her attention back to the mug she was cleaning. Spotless! David and the kids never did as good a job. The mug was truly shining, or maybe it was just her eyes itching and tearing up. She put the mug down to gaze at the time. Alright a half hour past last call. She sighed, it was time to wake David.

The short walk to his table felt like an eternity. She shook him gently upon her arrival, already accustomed to the futility of trying to call his name. He woke slowly, but surely. David smiled at her through his last three teeth. The 'three musketeers' he called them, claiming they'd stuck with him through 'hell knows what'.

David would've been a strapping young lad if not for his drinking, this she'd decided long ago. He seemed exceptionally out of it today though, and she was temped to ask him about the bag of white powder she'd found in the closet.

As she helped him up, his bright blue eyes refused to look into hers. She found that rather odd. David knew how much she loved his dreamy eyes, and was well versed at wriggling a free drink out of her every now and then with a look alone.

"How much for tonight," he slurred out as he stood.

Matilda smiled, in what felt like the first time in a long while, "About two hundred quid. You um, really did manage to finish the entire bottle David."

Her tone was a little apprehensive. It was only the other day that David had come in, standing tall and proud and slapped two thousand pounds on her counter. He'd somehow come into quite a bit of money recently, and finally paid off a tab years overdue.

His tip removed any lasting doubts she may have had. They walked in silence to the exit, David knowing that Matilda would be locking up after he left. His drunkenness was obvious for all to see, but Matilda could not help but think something else weight on his mind. As she watched him vanish into the September night, she couldn't help but notice how off he seemed.

Locking up behind her, she made to move toward the back of the Bed and Breakfast, passing by the first floor of guests. But, just as she was about to step into the stairwell a noise from behind stopped her. She whirled about, facing the empty hallway of rooms. The noise came again, filling the entire night with a sharp crack. She silently made for the west wing, coming to a stop at the edge of the hallway. Light streamed into the hallway under the door at the far end. Room 106, she noted. Why were they up so late.

As she waited for the crack to come again, she noticed how the light streaming under the door seemed to fluctuate. Reasoning it was just someone on the tele, she headed back to her own room.

Still, try as she might she could not shake a strange feeling of unease that seemed to permeate the night. A chill was in the air that was unusual for September. Before she headed to her own room, she made sure to check the locks connecting her quarters to the B&B and went to have a look at the boys. Dylan was resting nice and soundly in his bed. His pretty blond locks seemed to glow in the moonlight. Normally the twins would always sleep facing each other, but since it was Steven's night to sleep with the guest, Dylan was curled up away from the window and the empty bed of his brother.

The moonlight seemed to fill the room and illuminate the air. Seeing Steven's bed empty at this time of night, with Dylan curled up facing away just seemed too strange for her to handle. She quickly made to shut the curtains, and drenched the room in a peaceful dark.

She left the room in a hurry.

She was wiping the mug again. She was so tired, and her neck ached terribly.

"Matty?"

Voices didn't seem to interest her too much. Not since Dylan had fallen yesterday.

"Matty?"

She paused to inspect the cup, so clean that it shone an alien reflection back at her. Bright green eyes stared right-

"Oi! Matty, can you hear me?"

She was shaken out of her reverie, "Oh, sorry David. I've been out of sorts since yesterday. Didn't get much sleep". She made to answer in a hurry, as to not look as odd as she felt. When David made no move to respond she tiled her head up to meet his eyes, but could not help but look away from his turquoise gaze. Her breath hitched in her throat, but she forced herself to just try and stand straight.

"Are you feeling all right Matty?" he asked, the concern obvious in his eyes. She'd used to love those eyes.

Before she could answer, the bell on the door hinge rang and they both looked up. It was the newest guest, dressed in his black dress and carrying his strange bag. He deposited it onto the counter and took the seat next to David in an instant.

David turned to look into his drink, and Matilda's strong urge to clean her glass returned to her. Scrubbing away at the glass until the rag was torn and her fingers had polished the surface to a pristine glare. Time began to slow down as Matilda inspected the glass. Carrying it up to her eyes and trying to concentrate on the smallest blemish or flaw. More water, more soap. Some sandpaper maybe, if she had it. Did she? she did. She used it again and again. It turned into a sponge in her hand, as she scrubbed slick soap all over it. The sandpaper sponge hurt as she furiously scrubbed the glass.

The guest yawned and closed his book. He tiredly put his fountain pen down onto a coaster, and leaned back in his chair. As he closed his eyes, Matilda uttered a silent prayer to the Mother Mary.

It was only then that she looked up and noticed the orange light streaming in through the windows. The air had an evening feel carrying the remaining heat upwards from the ground and into a cooling sky. Her eyes moved unconsciously to the clock hanging on the wall behind her. She always used to complain about its incessant ticking, especially at night when she was alone. Now, however, it stood silent. The bar was empty save for David and the green eyed patron.

A stack of empty glasses stood next to either, and as she began to blink tears flooded her vision.

"Look at the time."

She didn't need to look to see who had spoken. The guest's voice had a distinct pressure she'd never encountered before.

"Jeez, can't you two just go about your day with me here?" he asked rhetorically.

She knew it was asked rhetorically. He'd asked her specifically not to talk and ask questions. David didn't even seem to hear him. He'd not looked up from his glass since... She didn't even know. Where'd he even get so many drinks from? She couldn't remember serving him at all. Her brow furrowed as an anxiety she couldn't explain took hold of her.

"Where are the kids," she abruptly blurted out.

The guest seemed surprised by her outburst, but before he could answer David jumped in, "Why's you wearing that dress anyway?"

The guest smiled, his eyes dancing in between them, "You've asked me that so many times David?"

"'Ave I?" David seemed genuinely surprised.

"And it's not a dress, they're *robes*," he added.

David nodded sagely at this, and then returned to his glass. Matilda watched him droop back down, his shoulders hunching over and he seemed to stare into the depths of his drink. Matilda began to hear a strange whirring noise in her head. She blinked and the guest was moving.

She could barely see him move. Her eyes were hazy, and it was as if she was a babe brought newly into the world. She understood nothing. Streams of colour floated past her face. And then, it was over as soon as it had come.

David was gone, and the bar was empty save for the guest and his disturbing green eyes. She returned to her glass with a newfound fervour. She didn't want to meet those eyes under any circumstances. They made her think strange things. But when he spoke, she had no choice but to look up.

"Matilda, did you take Steven to the basement today?" he asked in between sips of his dark beer.

She nodded fearfully, "He's down there right now. You can go see for yourself, or ask Dylan if you want to. I can fetch-"

He interrupted her with a wave of his hand. Continuing to drink his beer, he savoured the drink before putting it down, "Don't worry, I have faith in you. Speaking of Dylan though, how's he doing?"

She was surprised by the question, he'd never asked after one of the boys like that before. Usually he'd have just asked her to send them to his room for the night. She mulled her answer over for a bit, hesitating.

He caught her hesitation, and her gaze. As those emerald eyes burned into her, she felt an unconscious squeak escape her lips, "H-He's a good boy. He's doing good. Just fine, why wouldn't he be?"

She felt sick immediately afterward. Her visions broke and she nearly lost her balance, like a puppet with its strings cut.

The guest's voice intruded, as if from above, "God, not now. I told you not to ask questions". Even with her stomach lurching upwards, she was shocked by the callous nature of his tone. Like one might treat a fly on a humid day.

Leaning forward to grab the counter she was sure she was about to heave her lunch onto the table. But, as the nausea began to subside she steadied herself. Careful with her balance, she slowly inched her head to meet the guest's piercing stare.

She felt his eyes on the back of her neck the moment she saw them in front of her. She saw them in the dark corners in the room. Night had fallen. She and the guest were alone, all the lights had been shut down when the guest had moved in, and a lone tallow candle burnt a slender flame to light the room.

He had started writing, she realized with a start. Some time ago apparently. He was rather enthralled in his notebook. A few odd ink pots lay in front of him. A calligrapher maybe, by the look of the gold and pink ink he seemed to employ liberally. His movements were pained and slow, and not without a healthy dose of apprehension. His brow furrowed in such a way that she had not seen before.

"Five days," he muttered, "Five fucking days is how long it took. Can you believe that Matilda? Five goddamn days... Its no wonder they think I'm some..."

He trailed off, not as interested in Matilda as he was by his work. Matilda could feel his anger. It pulsed through the room like a living thing. She felt the eyes in the corner of the room narrow in anticipation. Something was coming. With moonlight streaming in through the windows, illuminating the room, Matilda could see the guest's journal clearly for the first time. She recognized the page immediately as a rough map of the B&B and the surrounding forest. Her fingers began to twitch, and she balled them into fists.

He noticed her discontent, eyes inclining ever so slightly up from his book. Freed from the glare of his glasses, in between the slit of his hair and spectacles she saw his eyes truly for the first time. Quickly, the room zeroed in on her. Moonlight seemed to grow in intensity as it turned the guest into a deep blue silhouette. His voice changed entirely as he spoke.

Bass plummeting, a deep overture masking his words, "Where are the children Matilda?"

She answered without even thinking of looking up, "Steven's still in the basement. I promise, and Dylan's still cleaning up in your room. I can get them right now if you want, I can go myself and just-"

"No," the voice came from above, and brokered no argument.

Her mind retreated into a fetal state, cradling itself between cold and imaginary knees.

"I need your blood Matilda," the voice cutting through her mind like lightning on a snowy night.

She nodded frantically. This nightmare was going to end soon. And, then she could see her children again. Closing her eyes, she gently held out a trembling hand towards the silhouette. The pain came quickly, eliciting a sharp yelp, but it was gone as soon as it came.

"Sorry about that," it was deeper now, huskier, "Matilda, it's time to get Dylan. David and Steven will be meeting you near the mulberry grove, alright?"

It sent a shudder through her body. She shivered in anticipation, her knees shaking as she ached to obey. She nodded frantically again, this time with renewed vigour. She shyly opened her eyes to seek some newfound comfort in this dark room, but her gaze found only empty air. Before she could so much as utter a word, her eyes glazed and her body began to move on its own.

She headed towards the basement with a spring in her step. The B&B was dark and quiet. Ever since the guest had come, she'd been able to stop worrying about the other guests making a ruckus. She'd hardly even seen one out of their rooms. Before she knew it her hand were grasping for the basement key hidden in her bra. She threw open the door with unmitigated excitement and sped down into the depths.

David was having an awful time. He was cold, shivering, and with the dirty brat on his heels. He never much cared for Matty's kids. Having to watch the pudgy boy was something he'd have given his left nut to avoid.

Even worse, he was playing in the grove like some fairy. Dancing about like some sissy maniac. He popped another cigarette into his mouth. The nicotine was the only thing keeping him calm at the moment and the three packs in his bag were a testament to that. Still, those weren't for him. His brow furrowed in anger. Why carry cigarettes he couldn't smoke? Nothing seemed to amaze him anymore. He looked up and saw a long strand of pale white strewn amongst the clear night sky.

"Bloody chemtrails," he whispered. Shaking his head in disapproval, he called out to Steven, "Oi! Boy! We're supposed to wait, not sing in the woods!"

The boy didn't seem to mind his reproach, "Mommy says I can dance when I want to. There's nothing wrong with it. It's called gymnastics and-"

David cut him off, "Y'er mum's a right cunt! Teaching her sun to bite the pillow that early's just setting him up for some messed up shit". He spit at the ground in disgust.

"If you were my boy, see that'd be a different story," he continued. Steven had already turned away, and was staring into the darkness of the woods. David narrowed his eyes. Boy too good to talk to him now? His anger grew, and he was about to fling his cigarette Steven's way before a figure stepped out of the shadows.

At the very last moment the darkness gave way and a man in a long purple gown appeared. It was as if he'd crossed the horizon in a single step; like he'd moved from a speck in the distance to right before them in a moment. His splendid purple robes obscured his form, but his features shone in the moonlight.

Crescent moon spectacles and piercing blue eyes that retained their glow even in the deepest dark greeted them. A long white beard, braided in a strange fashion, that seemed to camouflage him in the moonlight streamed into their view. He'd appeared so suddenly that David had dropped his cigarette in surprise. The man was taller than any he'd ever seen before. Despite his sudden entrance, he seemed to occupy David's thoughts at once.

"Good evening gentlemen," his voice radiated throughout the entire clearing, "How do you do this fine night?"

David found his courage quickly, "Bugger off! We're waiting for someone".

Steven seemed transfixed on the stranger. David had a quick impulse to go over and grab Steven by the shoulders, but he quashed it ruthlessly.

The newcomer's attention landed on David, and as the pressure of the clearing fell entirely on him, he had the distinct feeling that he'd been judged and found wanting.

"Rather a late hour to be meeting with friends, is it not?" he replied. His voice had grown slightly stern, and his bright blue eyes twinkled sharply like the stars above.

David found himself stunned, "What's it to you anyway?"

"Are you aware of the time, good sir?" the stranger didn't seem to have heard him.

David felt his ire grow. He'd been anxious enough waiting but the strange man was really pushing him. He paused to think on what he said, but his breath hitched in his throat. His head began to hurt. What was the time? He glanced at where his watch would have been, and found a spot that suddenly felt naked.

Turning back to the man, "None of your business is it?"

"Could you please tell me the time, sir?" the reply came quickly, and far more harshly than the last.

David had begun to sweat. He could feel it under his clothes, a slick unease in the cool September air. Instinctively he reached for his iPhone, brining it up and hastily turning it on.

Only, the screen remained black. Again, he frantically pressed the home button. He couldn't see his reflection in the screen anymore. His hands moved to the power button. Was it dead? When was the last time he'd charged it anyway.

He looked up for a moment to see that the stranger had moved closer to him. Only about an arm's length away. His gaze bore into David's hunched figure.

"The time?" he posed again as David turned back to his phone. The apple logo flashed, but only for a moment, the screen turning to static and a foul odour drifting upwards. The stranger crinkled his nose at the smell.

David dropped his phone and the man took another step towards him. David hadn't realized at first just how tall he was, David barely came up to his breast. Hell, his beard might just be taller than Steven.

With a start, David lurched back and scanned the grove for Steven, finding him transfixed, staring at the stranger in purple robes. He was rooted in the very spot he'd been in since he'd last been dancing about the grove.

"Steven! What're you doing! Come here!" he demanded as he stepped back. The bearded man never took his gaze off David.

Steven made no move to reply, but the newcomer did in his stead, "Who compelled you to bring this child here?"

David's outrage outweighed his fear, "What in the- What the hell are you trying to say! This boy's my nephew, I can take him where I damn well please". David's anger was palpable, just who did this man think he was?

"Who compelled you to bring this child here?" the mans tone was different this time. It hit David like a truck, the entire force of the night blowing him off his feet and into an invisible wall behind him. In an instant, he was stripped of his coverings and inspected in all his nakedness.

Eyes wet, David tore his gaze away from the man.

"My, my. Harry's mystic eyes have come a long way indeed," the man seemed despondent. "Now, I'm afraid I have a few more-"

Steven's shouts broke David out of his trance, "Ohhhhh!"

Both of them turned to look at Steven. The boy's face was a macabre horror show of twisted muscles, frozen in a scene of maniacal joy. David looked on in shock as innumerable teeth filled the gaping, smiling abyss that occupied Steven's mouth. His once playful eyes were bulging, veins popping in delirious fervour.

Even the unflappable newcomer was surprised. He took a step back and turned to face Steven, all interest in David forgotten.

The strangers blue eyes widened, pupils dilating as he focused his attention on Steven. David saw his chance, and made to move away from the man and towards Steve. But, before he could so much as move a single step he froze in place. What little momentum he had nearly tipping him over.

"W-What is this?" the man seethed. His questions reminded David of the guest at Matilda's B&B.

Steven did not respond to him, only giggling and skipping from side to side. Instead, he shifted his face directly towards David.

"Don't you see! It's him! The white one!" Steven practically screamed in glee.

Immense joy flooded into David, and he found him self parting his lips in a silent 'Ohh' that seemed to stretch the limits of what he thought his mouth capable. Everything felt numb. Nothing but joy. Even as the tendons in his face tore as his mouth moved beyond human comprehension.

The white one. The one that they were promised would come. Oh merciful God, this bloody nightmare was about to come to an end. David craned his neck as far up as he could and turned to stare at the stranger and the moon simultaneously. Any moment now he'd see the signal.

He caught the stranger by surprise, who took another step back, turning now to maintain both Steven and David in his field of vision.

His voice was quiet, but seemed to reverberate through the clearing, "Oh Harry, what have you done..."

Immediately, the pressure in the clearing rising a hundredfold. Steven and David, previously overtaken with joy, now stood transfixed in fear. The air itself felt like a viscous ocean, every single atom standing still. Whatever breeze there was stopped immediately, and even the moonlight seemed frozen in place.

As Albus Dumbledore descended from his aged counterpart, magic and blood mingled on the battlefield once more.

The explosions were not a good sign. Sighing, Harry moved to secure his trunk. He'd wasted precious time applying a long chain of obscuring, sealing and explosive charms on the box he'd practically been living out of for the last few months. Still, contingency plans were important and if his escape failed then he needed to be sure the Order had as little to go on as possible.

Another explosion rocked the forest and Harry cringed. Was Dumbledore really just trying to blast them to bits? Couldn't he think of a variety of better solutions? He narrowed his eyes in thought.

If Dumbledore was testing them to try and determine exactly what they were, that meant he thought he had the luxury of time. Hopefully Matilda hadn't been late... Or damaged, for that matter. He'd been working on her and David all day, a real rush job. Something had gone wrong two days ago, throwing off the entire system.

Making sure for the final time that the final spatial-inference charm would hold, he quickly shrunk and transfigured the trunk into a small ring. With enough luck, he'd be able to sneak this ring through the floor when he was- *if* he was caught. The defeatist mentality was a little hard to overcome when it had only taken them *five days* to crack his supposed perfect hideout. Shaking his head clear, Harry stepped out of his room and into the deserted hallway.

Pulling out his wand he tapped the nearest wall three times and waited for the response. As his wand throbbed in his hand, he scowled in impatience. Every moment he waited was a moment well spent so long as it slowed Dumbledore an equal amount of time. Somehow Harry doubted this was true.

His wand burned in his hand as harry slowly twisted it, as if adjusting a dial. His breathing was laboured, but this entire building was so heavily saturated with his own blood that renewing the protections didn't ask too much of him. Pointing his want at the ceiling, Harry began to whisper a long incantation.

Letting his unconscious mind take over the chanting, he began to desperately rack his brain for a way out of this.

Dumbledore had shown up. Dumbledore! Of all people that had to come barging in unannounced, Dumbledore just had smash his wards like glass and shoehorn his way in with all the subtlety of a rhino. Whether he'd meant to or not, and Harry had the distinct feeling it was no accident, Dumbledore's entrance had utterly shattered some of Harry's more far reaching protections. Protections that were essential if he was to make his escape.

A voice from within the walls interrupted his thoughts, "*Master, I have come as you have summoned me. I have answered your call*".

Sealing the spell with a bright purple light that seemed to ooze its way into the roof, Harry turned towards the voice, "*Has everyone made it to the grove?*"

"*The white one has come master, as you said he would*," the voice replied back.

Another explosion rocked the ground as Harry's patience began to wear thin, "*I know that. Has everyone made it to their positions?"*.

"*The white one is here. They follow your command*" it said once more.

Harry had just about had it, it was his own fault for plucking a common garden snake and feeding it blood to try and awaken it. Clearly he'd done a piss poor job, "*Where is everyone?"*"

"*The two are with him, and the others remain unseen. I have come to-*"

Harry didn't bother waiting. As he bolted down the corridor he transfigured and charmed his robes into a churning black smoke to propel him off the ground, gaining speed as he barrelled towards the exit. A wave of his wand blasted the doors away, and he rose on a dime to ascend like a rocket into the air above the building.

With a clear view of the forest, illuminated by the moonlight, Harry turned his eyes to the site of the last explosion. He had to time the signal perfectly. Any mistake on his part would ensure that neither David or Matilda would be able to execute their plan. Hovering in the air below the moon, he saw an arc of white lightning light up a spot about a hundred feet from the building.

Harry smiled, Dumbledore clearly hadn't noticed the decoy in the hotel yet. He'd rightly assumed that Harry would choose to fortify and defend rather than fight a running retreat to the edge of Dumbledore's anti-apparition jinxes. Dumbledore believed his senses to be strong enough to mark Harry from miles away, and he'd certainly sense if Harry was trying to flee. No, better to stand and fight and pray for an opening.

Harry snorted. He could imagine Hermione next to him right now, scolding him for trying a plan whose success was dependent on Dumbledore making a mistake. He shook his head and tried to call upon his occlumency to steady himself. If he'd timed it right, Dumbledore should be sensing him about four hundred feet directly below his position in the air. Which just happened to be his heavily fortified room.

Harry licked his lips in anticipation. When Dumbledore would open that door, he'd have but one chance. One shot to make this work. His eyes scanned the forest for any hint of magic. Dumbledore had so nicely decided to explode onto the field like a battering ram, leaving his abilities to pinpoint anyone's location wholly inadequate for the situation. In his vanity he'd hoped that by engineering a complex system of wards and defences, he'd hold an advantage over anyone trying to break them down while inside the affected area. He'd never even considered the idea of blowing the whole thing up and sending magic haywire all over the place.

He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he never noticed the hand reaching out to clasp his shoulder. Turning in the air, Harry lashed out at the hand, his wand shooting up with blue sparks thundering. His mouth opened to begin the incantation to the Midnight Star, but before he could utter a single syllable a second hand lashed out and hit him square in the stomach. The force behind it instantly dispelling the magic on his robes, cancelling his flight and sending him barreling down to Earth.

Only on the way down did the pain from the strike actually hit Harry. Vomiting in midair as he fell, Harry wove his wand in a spiral around him, instantly halting his descent. He would not savour the moment, as an enormous torrent of water hit him, engulfing him completely and throwing him down to the ground once more. As he fell, he screamed. In doing so Harry inadvertently swallowed a lungful of the flood that brought him crashing down to Earth.

Choking and sopping wet, Harry landed with a crash, only surviving the fall due to the water that both cushioned and strangled him on the way down. Opening his eyes a fraction, Harry quickly cast a banishment charm on the ground to his left, the explosion sending biting debris into his face and unprotected hands, but also throwing him away from several spells that impacted the ground in a circle.

Harry landed with a roll and rose unsteadily to his feet. Managing to catch his beath, he turned his gaze up to the moon.

Albus Dumbledore stood on an invisible platform far above him, purple robes contrasting against the night sky and making the moon's light their own. Harry couldn't see his face from so far away, but he could well imagine the disappointment in those eyes.

Fear threatened to take control of him, but conviction and anger quickly took its place. Fine then, if this was how Dumbledore wanted it, then this was how it would be.

Drawing his wand up and pointing it squarely at Dumbledore, Harry gave a short bow.

Dumbledore's surprise was palpable, even from such a distance. It was quickly replaced by shock, slight outrage, and then an utter silence. Dumbledore inclined his head the barest fraction Harry thought was conceivably possible.

The next moment, a sonic boom tore through the air as Dumbledore sped through the air towards Harry like a missile. He noted with alarm that Dumbledore was picking up sped as he came down. Realizing this was the one chance he'd have this entire fight to actually win, Harry narrowed his eyes.

Pointing his want directly at the speeding Dumbledore bullet, Harry reached into his pockets and withdrew a small glass vial. He estimated he had ten seconds until Dumbledore crashed into him. His hands were wet with sweat, and he hadn't realized that his teeth had begun to chatter. Steading his breath, he called upon his entire history of occlumency to steady his hand.

He placed the vial at the tip of his wand, and held it steady. The spell would need to go through the vial's contents to travel the approximate distance, and there'd be no second cast if he missed.

Five seconds. He had to time this perfectly. Dumbledore would land directly in front of him before jumping back, using the newly formed crater to his advantage and taking the high ground. Harry was counting on this. Maybe not the best idea to cede the advantage to a superior-

Dumbledore crashed a whole two seconds before Harry'd thought he would. The noise of thunder lit up the entire forest as a heavy red light broke through glass, intermingling with liquid before shooting off into space.

Dumbledore stood above him. Harry's hasty protego had not held, and he'd taken most of the explosive force of Dumbledore's landing to his face. Harry lay on the ground, in the center of a hole carved ten feet deep into the earth. Dumbledore, magnificent as ever, had not a speck of dusk on him.

As Harry tried to lift himself onto his knees and elbows in the pit, he felt a few of his ribs come loose. His left leg hurt too much to think about, and if his initial examination was accurate then there was a clear break above his ankle. As he struggled to move, he realized what he must've looked like right now.

A chuckle couldn't help but escape him, drawing Dumbledore's notice. He must have looked like he'd all but forfeited any fight there might have been when he choose to face Dumbledore's assault head on...

He turned to look at his former headmaster.

He was immaculate as ever. The true and noble Consort of the Sun as they called him. Harry noticed with twisted glee that Dumbledore's left sideburns were slightly singed. He'd but barely missed then.

As if reading his mind, Dumbledore spoke, "I could have avoided your final spell completely Harry. Do not let pride cloud your analysis. In my anger, I merely choose to let you miss by the minimum distance. I'm afraid my patience has grown rather thin of late".

Harry did not respond. Any moment now...

Behind Dumbledore, thunder lit up the sky once more. Dumbledore whirled about, only to see light and fire dancing through the skies. Hundreds of tiny, bright and harmless explosions lit up the sky in a multitude of colours. The spell had carried the muggle firecracker concentrate slowly, but surely, to a high enough distance.

As the light illuminated Harry and Dumbledore, mad howls rang broke the silence the forest. Dumbledore tore his eyes away from the heavens and towards Harry once more. Kneeling in place, Harry met Dumbledore's gaze with the stubbornness that Albus had long come to expect of him.

And the howls tore through the forest.


	2. Prologue Part Two

\- *XXXX* indicates the text is italic (kinda important for both prologue chapters as both spells and parseltongue are italicized).

\- **XXXX** indicates the text is bold.

Lmk what u think and all that.

**Prologue Part II: Back Again Harry?**

It gave him but a second, but that was all he needed.

As the moon and sky waned crimson from the signal spell, Harry leap into action. A quick numbing charm on his broken leg was all he could spare before being forced to roll out of the way. Where he had knelt a moment before, strange constructs of earth rose from the ground seeking to immobilize him.

The howling continued, growing ever closer. Harry was given no quarter, the earthen restraints he'd barely dodged exploded in a shower of sharp debris. The first few dug into his flesh, burrowing their way through his robes before Harry sent a weak banishment charm to redirect them to where he thought Dumbledore was.

Lurching to his feet, Harry scanned the field for any sign of Dumbledore. He didn't stand a chance as things were. Dumbledore had decided to drive into his perfectly made house of traps with a bulldozer. He was supposed to be in the bloody air right now and-

"Enoug-" a voice broke out directly behind him.

Harry wouldn't let him talk. He couldn't let him talk, not if he wanted a chance at winning this. Before Dumbledore had even finished a word Harry had launched himself in the opposite direction, ducking under a volley of stunners that would have surely taken him, and thrust his want as far into the Earth as he could.

He spared one glance behind him, and saw cold blue eyes shining like a dead sun. This was it, and despite feeling wholly unprepared for this kind of fight, Harry would not back down. Not in this. Not to him. A single spark within him leapt up to his eyes, igniting magic circuits that burnt emerald. His focus narrowed, the field was gone, and alone were he and Dumbledore.

The moment froze, and their eyes met. Mystic eye met mystic eye, and the subtle war of illusions raged. It lasted both an eternity and a moment. Dumbledore had experience, but Harry had power. Then, his delusion passed and he had neither. The battle was lost, but not the war. Tearing himself away from Dumbledore's eyes was a task in and of itself. He consoled himself that his resounding defeat had only been due to the nighttime.

His wand twiched, buried deep in the ground.

"*Reducto Terra Miasma*," he screamed. The Earth bent to his will.

Harry savoured the brief look of surprise on Dumbledore's face. Before, of course, the first layer of soil exploded upwards with enough force to launch a forest's worth of trees into the air. If he'd not transformed the moment he'd triggered the first seal, the exploding earth would have shredded him to bits. He had no illusions about it causing any lasting harm to his previously former headmaster. Harry didn't bother trying to remain on the newly created desert of quicksand, instead using the rent apart dirt to burrow deeper into the ground.

Even transformed, the pain from his broken bones slowed him considerably. Dumbledore really hadn't been holding back in that moment. It really was a miracle he'd managed to get the signal out in time. As he slithered further down, he felt Dumbledore's magic flare above him. A great heat began to slowly make its way down through the sand. Harry shuddered, was Dumbledore trying to...

Thankfully, transformed as he was even Dumbledore could not sense him. The transformation was old magic, ancient even. From before the time of the first focus, before the advent of fire, before even the spoken word. If snakes could have smirked, Harry would've right now. This was one gigantic advantage he held over Dumbledore. It didn't matter how smart or clever or talented you were. It didn't matter how much goddamn magic you could throw around or how much you knew or even how your elementary spells were always far too powerful to make sense. No, the animagus transformation was an ancient form of blood magic. Carried only by the blood, not in mind or soul. A marble phantasm manifested only by those whose heraldry bore some connection to pacts made before men were men.

Above him, he felt the heat fade up and down. Dumbledore had engaged his howlfiends then. Not much worked on the dead except fire, and Dumbledore wasn't one to try and toy around. Still, anything to keep Dumbledore busy. All that trouble setting off the signal had been worth it so long as it occupied his opponent until he could unleash his penultimate trap.

As he gave into his serpent senses, he felt a portion of hope within him. Below him, a mass of writhing flesh came alive. His speed picked up as the heat above him crept downwards. Dumbledore had his position right now, maybe, but it didn't matter. With a clear 'thunk', he slammed into a wall of serpent flesh. An orgy, buried deep under the ground for this very moment. Pushing aside the spent snakes on the outermost edges, he infiltrated the sphere of wriggling serpents and began to scream as he made his way to the center.

"*I command you, the white one has come! Now! The white one has come!*," he repeated his cry as he sped forward.

Each snake that heard his call froze for a moment, then began a mad dash to disentangle itself and make for the surface. There, Dumbledore would find just why Harry had spent the last five days meticulously preparing the entire forest floor for this plan. A whirlpool of poison fangs awaited his headmaster. He hadn't expected to have been forced to use it so soon, but he'd have been a fool to cross wands against Dumbledore with no advantage.

Harry had never much cared for the feeling of making his way through an orgy of snakes, especially one of this size. It felt a bit like what he thought walking into an actual orgy would feel like truth be told. Still, now wasn't the time to complain. He honestly wasn't sure how long he continued to scream his snake lungs hoarse. The sheer number of serpents was sure to surprise Dumbledore. He was certain the centenarian didn't have a clear idea of just how extraordinary the muggle global market was.

As he breached the center, a brief spike of hope raced within him. This was the real prize. A mass of beautiful white serpents, each thrice as long and wide as the common ones he'd been throwing at Dumbledore so far. Their red eyes shone beautifully in the dark, each homing in on Harry before he'd even said a word. They immediately disentangled from the others, and came to him, wrapping around him tightly.

These ones were clever, and had managed to keep his blood down when fed. They could tell he was heart, and constricted around him. A cocoon of protective flesh. Harry felt his heart begin to calm as he spoke.

"*The white one has come. I require healing*," but before he'd even finished speaking, little symbols etched meticulously on the white marble scales came alive. They wrapped around him even tighter now, practically choking him. He was thankful nonetheless, as the healing magic began to slowly mend his form. This was rather tricky to do right in the middle of a battle. Especially a battle with Albus Dumbledore. Maybe not so much 'tricky' as it was stupid. Harry's head throbbed with impatience as the magic slowly untangled and activated.

Salazar Slytherin had created these spells for a parselmouth to use after combat, or during meditation. They were certainly not meant for the battlefield, or for animagi for that matter. Feeling himself shedding his old skin and growing new flesh, months sped up to moments, was something he'd never get used to either. He had this contingency plan in place but he didn't think that he'd be spent so quickly. As the moments dragged on the heat slowly but surely increased. Harry's fear was becoming palpable.

He didn't have anymore time to heal. He regretted doing it in the first place but if he was to flee he required mobility above all else. The cobras would be far more useful elsewhere. There weren't supposed to be occupied a hundred feet below while Dumbledore slaughtered his entire force. Gathering his strength, Harry began to nudge the serpents to disentangle. They moved to obey him immediately.

While he'd been within the cocoon, they serpents had moved themselves towards the very bottom of the orgy. As far from the danger on the surface as possible, they'd judged. Harry noted with approval, he was going to regret losing these ones.

"*Go. Now. The white one has come. Return to me upon his death*," he really was going to regret losing them. Months of hard work turned into mush because Dumbledore was having a tantrum. The serpents gave him a sense of glee before rushing together towards the surface. The moment they breached the whirlpool above, Dumbledore would have a new challenge to content with.

Harry alone remained at the bottom of where the orgy once was. Along with the contemptuous ones that had broken free from his control and remained writhing uselessly on the spot. Harry noted with approval that there weren't many of them. He sped along the bedrock, following the trails made by his snakes. If they'd done it right then they should have all converged to a single point. A small note a alarm rose in Harry, and was ruthlessly quashed. He'd never done anything like this before, and a single spell gone awry at any point would lead to failure.

Sirius' face shone in the darkness.

Hermione's sobs rang in his ears.

No, he could not stop. No hesitation, else he would fail. For them, he would face any foe. Even one as monstrous as this. Sparing a cursory glance above, he slipped into one of the many thin holes that dotted the bedrock. Down here he was safe, for a moment at least.

Harry racked his brain for a way out of this. Truth be told, he'd pretty much blown his load already. Dumbledore had probably already freed David and Steven. He'd given the emergency signal, activating the howlfiend he'd stashed in the woods. Now all he could do was hope that Dumbledore would think him desperately trying to escape. It was the smart thing to do after all. Obvious and predictable yes, but trying to stop a single fleeing snake in an army of thousands was a fools errand, even for Dumbledore.

Harry made his way through the snakeholes, above him he could feel the tremendous clash of magic taking place. His white serpents had finally made it to the surface and taken command of the army. Now, instead of just biting at him desperately, they'd have some actual tactical ability. It might even make Dumbledore think that Harry was actually among them himself.

Harry came to a branch point in the tunnel. One led to the surface, albeit surfacing a few miles away, while the other led deeper into the ground. But, before he could make his choice a thunderous boom shook the ground. The force of it sent Harry shaking, tremors screaming deep into the earth. He felt the tunnels crack and collapse in some places around it. Even all the way down here, Harry could feel its penetrating heat.

Harry eyes spun in his skull. What a blast! Dumbledore must have been furious, just what kind of spell was that? He must have been hundreds of feet deep. Wait, why would he have. No...

Panic struck Harry as he immediately made for the surface. That explosion must have been enormous, incinerating a good half of his army in a single strike, including all of his commanders. If Harry had been up there alongside them, he would have shared their fate. Dumbledore would never have taken such a risk, potentially killing Harry, if he had not been absolutely sure Harry was not among them. Which begged the question.

How did Dumbledore know where he was.

His heart thrummed as he hurried upward. Dumbledore couldn't have. It was impossible. The animagus transformation was a powerful magic that turned man into beast, plain and simple. Animagi were completely indistinguishable from their beastly counterparts. There were spells and protections that could force an animagi to reveal themselves, but for all intents and purposes they were identical to the beasts around them. Even Dumbledore, in this world of snakes prepared specially for this purpose, should have been lost.

The heat grew unbearable, breaking his thoughts. Channeling his anger into his will, he began to transform. The spells were cast before he was even fully human. His robes transforming into black smoke, a shield carving away the earth above him as he rose. He rocketed out of the loose dirt and into the sky.

Shooting up a hundred feet or so, he gazed down into a hell of his own making.

The smell of burnt flesh rose even this high. The area below him had been transformed first from a forest floor to a desert, a powerful terraforming curse blasting away moisture and roots. It would have been a perfect desert of loose dirt and broken stone, allowing for his serpents to form a whirling storm surrounding Dumbledore.

It would have, were it not for the man in question. Dumbledore stood calmly in the center of it all. Harry's whirlpool of destruction obliterated through sheer power. Dumbledore hadn't fought in any particularly clever fashion. Harry had obliterated the moisture from the ground, heating it so quickly it exploded. He'd left sand and stone behind.

And Dumbledore had made that sand and stone his. He walked calmly on a pristine mirror. It looked like water, Harry abruptly thought. Everywhere, for a quarter of a square mile, turned and obliterated to glass. A beautiful silver mirror burnt into the ground a dozen feet deep. He could see the depression in the ground where Dumbledore stood, gazing directly at him. In the beginning he'd started small, a whirlpool of fire around him to protect from the swirling snakes. Then, either slowly or all at once, he'd exploded. No vegetation remained in the entire area effected. Even the forest outside the range of Harry's spell had been charred and obliterated black. Harry's fingers shook at the devastation of the spell. He'd heard tales of battles so terrible they left a scar on the planet, but he'd never been in one before.

Dumbledore had misjudged him however, just as he'd knew he would. Small holes and tunnels going deep in the ground, petrified in time by Dumbledore's fire gave a way for his serpents to rise to the surface. Harry noticed his surprise as burnt and bleeding snakes, those closest to the blast that survived, made their way to the surface.

Gathering his cougar, Harry willed his magic into action. It rose like a wave lose in a tsunami. Dumbledore's might had transformed Harry's carefully crafted arena into an alien nightmare of glass, flame and dead flesh. Despite his well-founded hesitation, something inside Harry rose to meet the near insurmountable obstacle that now lay in front of him. Dumbledore had found him. He'd had an entire summer to prepare and now fate had found him wanting. Locking eyes with Dumbledore, Harry drew up his wand.

Only for fire to envelop him. Dumbledore hadn't even moved his wand. As the whirling fire began to encircle him, a screech behind him revealed its source. Harry heart raced as Fawkes exploded onto the battlefield, mere inches above Harry. Eyes widening, Harry cancelled his flight and turned to fall just as Fawkes made for this throat. Talons tipped in red gold burnt Harry's hair as he fell.

Transforming immediately to avoid the stream of stunners Dumbledore sent over his way, Harry screamed from the air, "*Slithering son of a slithering son, come and feast and let your womb undone!*"

Snakes all around him, rising from the ground, some already moving towards Dumbledore, paused and turned towards him. He transformed before he hit the ground, landing in a painful crouch. Harry's wand burnt painfully in his hand as a cold yellow light gathered at the tip. He paid Fawkes no heed as he began circling him in the air. There were enough snakes around for this trick of Salazar's to work. It was a pity the howlfiends had been destroyed.

Dumbledore moved before him, his and racing out and tracing vast sequences into the air. The charred glassy earth around Dumbledore rose and liquified, forming globs of molten lava that lazily floated around him. From above, Fawkes let out an angry screech that burnt Harry's ears and echoed in his head. A mirthless laugh escaped Harry, what an enemy. Even holding back as he was, Dumbledore was truly a force to be reckoned with.

"Harry, you will-"

Harry interrupted Dumbledore for the third time tonight as his spell came into motion. The snakes that had stood as still as the night above suddenly exploded into screeching action. Launching themselves like bullets at Dumbledore, the ones closest to him impacted a strange shield, causing translucent ripples in the air. Dumbledore raised his wand, and Harry recognized the beginning of a mass vanishing charm. But, before he could complete the movement, the snakes outside his shield exploded in a macabre horror show that released a great plume of acrid smoke.

Harry's wand was already moving. Serpent after serpent launched themselves at his headmaster, each bursting in a show of gore and pungent gas. Harry was lucky that Dumbledore hadn't seen fit to torch the entirety of the underground space Harry had hallowed out, otherwise he'd have lost his entire army. Whipping his wand around himself, he ended the long chain with a jab at Dumbledore.

The gas seemed to surge in on itself, and then responded to Harry's call. It began to coalesce around Dumbledore's position, rising higher and faster to form a tornado that would trap him. Harry smiled, now all he would have to do was wait. And he didn't have to wait long.

Without warning, a lance of hardened magma shot out from the storm of yellow gas. Eyes widening, Harry made to move out of the way, but the lance struck is side and tore open his thigh. Eyes stinging, Harry cast a quick shield. His shield formed right in the nick of time, saving him from several heavy globules of magma that would have surely swallowed him hole. He steading himself and pointing his wand at the ground.

Dumbledore gave him no quarter. The entire world lit up, yellow gas vanishing before white lightning in an instant. Harry screamed an incantation as the lightning struck his shield and tore it away in the same instant. The ground gave way too slowly before him, and the lightning seared his eyeballs as he fell into his newly created hole. He didn't waste a moment before transforming and digging into the charred and glassy earth. Digging through what was essentially powdered glass wasn't pleasant, but adrenaline kept him going.

He was safe, for now. Dumbledore was above him, and Harry could hear the many eruptions of gas and gore taking place above him. He reached out with his serpent senses to paint a picture of the surface. He wasn't sure how many snakes had sacrificed themselves for his spell, but there weren't nearly enough. Not yet. He needed to stall.

Far above him, a horrible cry broke him out of his reverie. He felt a shudder in his very soul. A phoenix was a creature of summer and light, how one came into Dumbledore's service was beyond him. Fawkes' cries above only increased his urgency. He had no time, and lacked the ability to effectively stall. He needed to escape. He needed to make it out of-

"Enough, Harry".

The broken desert of glass he had been traveling through suddenly constricted around him. Eyes bulging, Harry made a move to transform but as he wheeled about in his animagus form to try and find the source of the noise, it was for naught. A sharp spike of glasses broke through the ground of his little tunnel, carving cleaning through his tail, and embedding itself in the roof. His serpent mouth frozen in a soundless scream, Harry writhed and hissed in fury, trying to tear his tail off in a futile attempt to escape.

Screaming in pain, with his transformation cancelled, the tunnel constricted around harry, forming fingers and a palm. Crushing Harry's impaled body in it's newfound grip, the hand rose for the surface. As it breached the air, the hand broke apart into the charred and glassy earth it was made from, chucking Harry's twitching and bloody form unceremoniously on the floor.

Harry lay in the pool of blood, numb from all the pain. He'd felt himself revert to primal reptilian instincts for a moment, and pushed his occlumency to tune out the pain. Taking a deep breath, Harry transformed.

And woke to unimaginable pain. Harry screamed. His legs must have been crushed to powder. In his hysterics, he chanced a look down at his legs and nearly heaved at what he saw. It look as though someone had driven a rusty flagpole right through both his kneecaps over and over again. Shards of bone oozed with fat and muscle, and torn and gushing blood. He couldn't walk. No, he couldn't so much as crawl. If he wanted any chance at escaping he'd have been better of cutting away both legs and trying to make a run with just his torso. The pain lanced deep within him. Anger rose, clouding his thoughts till there was nothing more.

Yet he heard Dumbledore's footsteps perfectly. His feet came to a rest steps away from Harry's head.

"Rather anti-climactic, wouldn't you say Harry?" Dumbledore posed. Harry bit his lip so hard he was sure that he'd just swallowed a chunk.

He still had the smoke, his broken mind abruptly realized. His fingers wrapped around his wand. He had one shot. Lifting up his broken head, Harry chanced a look behind Dumbledore's ankles. There it was, a churning mass of sovereignless yellow smoke slowly dissipating. If he could just wrest control of it again and activate it-

This time, it was Dumbledore who interrupted him. Harry had been careful to open open his eyes a fraction, to stare past Dumbledore's sandals and onto the battlefield. Now, his vision was preoccupied with eyes of the deepest blue. Suddenly he realized that Dumbledore had bent down. He cursed himself for forgetting, as his mind and soul lost all meant in the cosmic sea that was Dumbledore's eyes.

The pain was gone, and so was he. No physical form remained, only a numbness that permeated the entirety of his being. All he felt was disappointment, at how easy he'd gone down, and anger, for he despised the man who had bested him. All his trump cards, all his plans and preparations, all were for nothing. Even now, he slowly realized, he'd been so resoundingly defeated that it hardly merited notice. He'd not even considered trying to match Dumbledore's eyes.

For days, this was his experience. Not a moment passed in this illusory world wherein he was no consumed by anger and hatred. Once upon a time, years ago, Harry had fallen under the spell of these eyes before. Back then, he'd seen little pink sprites and wisps of red hair, singing lullabies that seemed oh so familiar. Now, there was nothing but black.

Harry woke slowly from his nightmare.

Blinking his eyes wearily, the cringed instantly at the pain that greeted him. His legs felt like they were on fire.

He couldn't see where he was. Pillows and blankets surrounded him, and above him loomed a domed wooden roof. He could make out that there was a light source and a person in the room with him, judging by the flickering shadow cast on the ceiling. He felt a cough coming up, and didn't bother holding it in. The shadow on the roof moved towards him.

An invisible hand lifted his head and began to incline it upwards, bringing the room into view. Stuffing pillows behind him, Harry absently sniffed one of the sheets. The sterile, sharp scent spoke of conjuration. He did not recognize the room. It was a bare wooden hut, a bit like Hagrid's but devoid of any furniture but for an empty rocking chair before the roaring hearth. Harry stared into the flames to avoid looking to his left.

Dumbledore sighed, and made to sit down. Harry thought he was about to sit on the floor but a soundless crack echoed and an identical chair appeared to meet him.

Neither of them spoke. Harry wasn't sure if he could, to be honest, and didn't feel much like asking his former headmaster for a drink of water. Dumbledore was looking down into his lap, seemingly avoiding Harry's gaze. Harry began to gather strength into his mystic eyes, magic numbing the pain, it would be necessary if...

Dumbledore broke his thoughts, his voice strained, "Please, do not".

Harry allowed the emerald light to recede. As he felt the strain in his eyes return, he let out a small cough.

The quiet descended upon them once more.

Now, it was Harry who refused to look at Dumbledore. Staring ahead into the bright hearth, his thoughts grew more and more troubled as the silence ticked on. He let out a pained sigh, partly due to the throbbing in his legs, partly because of how different he wished things could have been. Harry focused on the flames. The white of the fire was all he could see, and soon enough even that began to resemble Dumbledore's beard.

As his vision began to blur, it was his professor who broke the ice, "Back again, Harry?"

Uncertainty clouded his injured mind for a moment, before he thought of the perfect reply, his voice hoarse, "I never left, professor".

A glass of water levitated itself into his field of vision. Gently coming to a stop an inch away from his lips, Harry leaned forward and eagerly drank the water within. He trusted it to be water. Even if it wasn't... Well, the animagus transformation wasn't the only ancient magic he held over Dumbledore. He was safe from any potions Dumbledore tried to give him.

"What have you done Harry?" the question was pleading.

Harry resisted the urge to shrink back, taking strength from his magic. His legs felt better with each passing moment he bit through the pain.

"Me? I'm not the one that tried to commit murder," he bit back accusingly. His voice hitched in the middle, a sharp pain running through his chest.

Dumbledore looked him in the eye, one brow raised. Even without the use of legilimency or mystic eyes, they conveyed his disbelief.

His tone was measured, "If you are referring to the events surrounding my re-location of-"

"Relocation!" Harry spat, "Is that what you call it?"

Dumbledore's features remained implacable, only the eyes ever twinkling, "I believe that our agreement was that you would stay safe, keep me informed and not attempt to deceive me. Correct?"

Harry refused to answer, "Did our agreement include you *blowing up my house*? Or trying to kill me? Or did you forget agreeing to the Statute of Secrecy by any chance? There were muggles-"

Dumbledore quieted him with a single look. The entire hut seemed muffled. The roaring hearth shrank back as a terrible pressure laid into the room. Harry heard his blood rushing through his ears, and the beat of his heart sped as his own magic refused to be cowed.

"You would see fit to lecture me on muggles? You, Harry?" his tone had a desperate edge to it. As if he'd been holding back this whole time, trying to avoid this topic but unable to just let it go.

The pain in his legs began to fade but his voice was quiet, "What is that supposed to mean, Professor?".

"I noticed those muggles you had bewitched into your service, Harry. I watched what they became," Dumbledore was uncompromising.

At this Harry felt indignation, "That's not how I'd have described it, Professor. And besides, I told you a week ago that I wouldn't be coming to Hogwarts this year. I have no need-"

Dumbledore seemed to be unable to hold it in any longer, "No, Harry. Your message was wholly inadequate. Your deceit was unacceptable. I had made it clear to you, that despite your personal thoughts on the mater, you were to return to Hogwarts regardless".

Harry didn't say a word. His ears were ringing. His magic rising with his anger.

"Imagine my shock," Dumbledore continued, "When I arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, only for Tom to inform me that Harry Potter had spent not one night this summer".

Harry's throat felt dry, his eyes stinging. His magic soothed him as Dumbledore's presence thundered down from above. The anger in the room was palpable.

"I had seen fit to trust you, this entire summer. After you'd proven yourself with Slughorn in New York, I had thought you had matured, but you remain a child. Your lies of Diagon Alley and the Burrow. Of vacationing in 'Majorca'. I trusted you Harry..." his tone was pleading at the end.

Harry had enough, "Trusted me? Professor you trusted me as far as you can throw me! I saw Tonks and Dung in every shadow and Snape behind every-"

Dumbledore interrupted him, "Father Snape, Harry".

Harry glared, pretending not to have heard, "I'm sorry Professor. I'm not happy I did it, but I'm not happy either that I had to do it. And that's your fault".

Dumbledore paused and Harry continued, inhibitions removed, "I told you I couldn't come back. I can't, and I don't want to and I don't need to. I got sick of your shit so yes, eventually I took a trip down Knockturn Alley. You already knew that".

Dumbledore measured his tone, "I knew that you had taken steps to explore, as any talented young wizard would. I had not known of the extent of your..."

As Dumbledore trailed off, anger rose in Harry, "My what? My fall? My defiling? Am I unclean under your law now professor?"

Dumbledore let emotion show for the first time, his brow crinkling in worry, "Harry, please, you are acting like a child. There is no need for this. Hogwarts is your home".

Harry flinched, but remained standing, "I know. I didn't say it wasn't. I just can't go back right now. Not after last year, I can't".

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, "Since I realized you were missing, I set myself to personally tracking you down".

He moved away from Harry's bedside, lazily waving his want with him. Harry's blankets pulled back slowly, layers and layers coming undone.

"I built a rather astute picture, if I may so so myself, of your actual movements this summer. You truly pulled the wool over this old fool's eyes Harry. I shall have to be much more careful in the future," his words were sharp.

The blankets pulled back to reveal an image that didn't match his mind, and Harry's eyes widened in shock. Their emerald light came alive with mystic eyes, the perfect counter to any illusion. Yet, as he reached out with a weak arm, he felt only smooth skin where he knew to be gnashed flesh and broken bone. He ran his fingers over both legs, feeling the perfectly smooth and uninjured skin. No scars remained. In fact, not a single hair was out of place. Far too perfect for any kind of healing magic. Some kind of illusory spell? Had Dumbledore never ever hit him in the first place. When did he manage to...

"What kind of spell...," Harry wondered aloud.

Dumbledore demanded his attention, "Where were you on your birthday?"

Harry stopped abruptly. His occlumency, pale and weak as it was, came rising to the forefront, "I already told you. I was with Ron and G-"

Dumbledore cut in, "I have established that, to my great regret, neither of the Weasley's have heard from you at all this summer".

Dumbledore's accusatory tone stung, and Harry reached out with his own curiosity, "You spoke to them?"

At Dumbledore's somewhat reluctant nod, Harry continued, "How are they?"

Dumbledore sighed and looked down, "They're both doing as well as can be expected. When I appeared out of the blue, asking questions, you can imagine their worry. Thankfully, I had n reason to voice my inquiries".

Harry furrowed his brow, "What does that mean?"

"It means, Harry," Dumbledore's face was pained, "That I quickly established that they had no memories of you this summer at all".

Harry's reply was a grunt of affirmation.

"And upon learning this, I concluded that it would be best to inform them that you would be arriving late to the school, that I was primarily responsible for your inability to communicate this summer and that you were sincerely wishing them all the best, and eagerly awaited them at Hogwarts," he finished with his eyes closed. Harry could sense the distaste radiating off the man, but he couldn't help but be thankful.

Silence dominated the room. Both wizards felt their magic begin to settle, as a balance was struck. Neither wizard would be seen retreating, but neither had anger to lose upon the other.

It was Dumbledore who broke their fragile peace, "Where were you on your birthday?"

Harry gulped, his mouth opened to answer but Dumbledore interrupted him.

"Look at me Harry," he demanded.

Harry looked up refusing to back down, and blue met green. The legilimency probe came immediately but Harry met it head on. Neither would use mystic eyes, but Harry was confident he could hold Dumbledore back without them. The probe brushed over his walls like a feather, tickling the sensitive spots before fading away. Just as Harry leaned back to take a breath, it came thrusting back. Like a battering ram this time, breaking through several layers of his shields at once. A spear that struck deep and true, piercing till it hit the desired memory.

*The scene shifted before his eyes.*

*He was on a hill encased in marble. A city on seven hills. The air was humid, and behind him a pale woman with icy blond hair spoke words etched into his mind.*

*"You seek the twelfth Dead Apostle Ancestor, but he will find you before you find him. That is troublesome".*

*Harry turned around to speak, "Don't worry, I-*

And the spear hit its limit. With a resounding crash that echoed through his mind, the haze lifted from Harry's eyes and he returned to the present. Deep within his mental eye he saw Dumbledore's bettering ram finally slam against a wall that it couldn't crack. Dumbledore's magic may have been inexhaustible, but slamming against the final ayer of defence had done naught but break his ram in two. Dumbledore didn't seem surprised.

"I had no idea you had progressed so far. My congratulations, Harry," he said in a tone that suggested anything but.

Harry broke eye contact, thankful for the respite, "It isn't anything I did. I only have mom to thank for it".

At this, Dumbledore's voice was hushed, "Indeed, thought I wonder how she would feel about how her sacrifice manifested..."

Harry didn't feel like he could argue the point, and returned to the matter at hand, "You can't force me to tell you Professor. You can't force me to do a lot of things anymore".

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled sadly and Harry was surprised by the depth of emotion a man's eyes could show. His voice remained strong and even, wholly unsuited to his sad eyes, "Be that as it may, I am afraid I require your assistance in filling certain gaps in my knowledge, and I cannot tolerate any further deception".

The last bit was said as a vial appeared in his hand. Dumbledore held it out and it spun lazily in the air towards him. Harry reached out and uncorked the top, giving it a cursory sniff. He almost dropped the bottle as he pulled his face away. The clear colour and lack of odour were repellent to his senses.

"No," he said immediately.

"You must, Harry, and you will," Dumbledore replied uncompromisingly.

Harry began to speak, but Dumbledore cut him off, "I cannot force you to take it. Your mother's blood protects you, and of that we are both aware".

He paused, and Harry glanced at the bottle. The light turned cool as reflected off the vial.

Dumbledore continued, "You will take it, by your own will, and you will answer for me five questions. No more, no less. I give you my word".

Harry blinked, his anger turning cold as he turned deathly still.

He immediately threw the bottle as hard as he could into the hearth. It would have shattered upon impact and sent embers flying into the room, had Dumbledore not stopped it a mere inch away from the flames.

"Why am I going to do that, Professor," Harry spat.

Dumbledore smiled, though there was no amusement behind it, "Here are my inquires Harry. I'm afraid that before I can admit you to Hogwarts, I truly do need the whole truth from you".

With this, he produced a piece of parchment from thin air and handed it to Harry. Harry took it and read over it slowly. His hands shook as he neared the bottom. Harry felt his knuckles turning white as he read over the small text again and again. Slowly he felt his temperature rise, until his ears were burning. Even his eyes stung with anger.

The parchment was no exception. The corner Harry grasped between his thumb and forefinger had begun to blacken, the pungent smell of burning lambskin rising into the air. With a sudden burst of magic, fire spread through the paper, incinerating it to a crisp. Even the ashes were not spared Harry's wrath, his hand reaching out to make a fist around them as they fell.

Dumbledore watched all this with no noticeable change, "Are you quite done?"

"Who do you-," Harry began, voice hitching in his throat, "What gives you the right?"

Dumbledore said nothing, his hands reaching within his robes. Yet Harry's anger surged out of his control.

Nostrils flaring, Harry sat up, "You think that everything is just a for you game to play? You of all people lecturing me about muggles? That's rich, and now you think you I'm going to drink your poison and just-"

An envelope fell into his lap. Dumbledore's outstretched hand frozen in place.

Harry eyed it warily, but Dumbledore encouraged him, "Go ahead. Open it".

Fast losing his patience with his headmaster, Harry tore open the manilla envelope, allowing the single photograph within to fall into his lap. His eyes froze as he recognized the figure in the image. The hut began to tremble as a current of magic raced through the building. The hearth nearly going out as a gust of wind boomed into existence. Uncontrolled magic, brought forth by a mighty mage's surging emotions. Harry's fingers shook as he gingerly brought the image up to his face.

A girl, Gods no, a woman now stood in the centre of the frame. Her face was bruised, one of her eyes puffy. Her forehead had been split open, but she stood proud and tall. There was no mistaking her though, he'd never mistake that wild beaver's nest she called her hair for anyone else's. His heart began to race and his focus narrowed in, mystic eyes coming alive and demanding information.

"Where was this taken. When?" he pleaded.

When no response came, Harry looked up to see Dumbledore examining the glass vial. Harry gulped.

"Truth for truth, a fair trade Harry," he said sombrely.

Harry thought for a moment. His anger surfaced, but his body made the choice before his brain had anything to say about it. His mind cried out in opposition as his fingers worked their way around the cork, and he nearly wretched upon downing a gulp of the veritaserurm in one go. It wasn't the taste that made him nauseous, he noted. He eyed the bottle with distaste before passing it back to the professor.

Dumbledore smiled his mirthless smile, before taking a gulp himself.

This chapter is far too long. The exposition is shit, and the character interactions just come off as kinda slimy to me. Please turn your exceptions down and brightness up.


	3. Chapter One

**Chapter One: There and Back Again **_(all titles are working names)_

Carriages moved far too slowly for his liking. He spared a quick glance in front of him before looking out the window once more. He'd rather mindlessly stare at the dull farmland that peppered the road to Hogwarts. The company didn't make things any better.

Severus Snape sat opposite him, one hand holding open a book, the other wrapped around his wand and resting in his lap. Clad in his crisp black robes and liturgical vestments, Harry thought the man looked distinct handsome up until his neck. Snape had one of the most unpleasant faces he'd ever seen.

Harry whispered a prayer to make the journey go faster.

"Indulging in prayer these days, are we Mr. Potter," Snape muttered, never looking up from his book.

Harry wrinkled his nose in displeasure. He'd always thought that Snape's voice was exceptionally grating. He could scarcely imagine a worse noise. If anyone ever wanted to torture him, they could play Snape's sermons on repeat.

He didn't want to respond, but he also didn't want to let Snape have the last word, "Ginny taught me a few over the summer, Professor".

Snape's face grew even more unpleasant, contorting in strange ways that made the bile churn in Harry's stomach. The lie was sure to annoy him, and if nothing else that alone gave Harry immeasurable waited for the biting reply, but it never came. This only served to annoy Harry more. Taking the high road right after acting like a kid, he could hardly imagine a more Snape thing to do.

He flicked his eyes over to Snape's book. '*Mysteries of Syria Palaestina*' read the spine. He'd laugh, if doing so wouldn't provoke Snape into a conversation. He wanted nothing more than to get away from this man. But, he'd brought this upon himself.

His eyes glazed over as he reached within him. Harry felt his magic pulsating, like a rhythm playing his senses. Tiny oscillations of magic spread out from his fingertips, deep into the wood grain of the carriage seats. The seals on the carriage came alive. Wards, curses, charms... He winced inwardly at a particularly gruesome curse that only Snape could have thought up, and unconsciously moved his hand to shield his groin.

He really had brought this upon himself. And these weren't any two-bit enchantments either. Harry had periodically been inspecting them throughout the journey. They'd shown no signs of weakening, even as he'd slowly tried to pull them apart bit by bit. He brushed his fingers over the first layer, desperately hoping to find some crack in the surface by now.

He blinked as he let his magic subside, pulling his fingers away from the wood and moved to massage his thigh. It didn't matter really. He was in no shape to try and pull off an escape. He was thankful he could still walk after his epic battle with Dumbledore, but none of the headmaster's attacks but his finisher had been easy to recover from. The lance of lava had nearly blown a hole the size of a bowling ball in his hip.

And then there was the real problem. His eyes flickered over to Snape, who lay immersed in his book. Harry had no desire to start a fight he knew he couldn't win. Not without an ace up his sleeve. Harry's eyes narrowed, he wasn't going to give Snape an excuse to throw Harry on the Hogwarts lawn, four black keys sticking out of him like he was a pincushion. He remembered the feeling of being bound with red sacramental cloth. If they'd fight right now, the bastard wouldn't even have to use magic. Inwardly, he cursed Dumbledore. He could have sent anyone to watch him to Hogwarts, anyone but this man.

It was Snape who broke their silence, "I have been instructed to inform you, Mr. Potter, that upon your return you are to see Professor McGonagall before retiring to the dormitories".

Harry winced as Snape continued to talk, his voice somehow reminding him of limes rotting in the sun. Harry wondered how anyone could enter God's service after being cursed with a voice like that.

"What for, Professor?" he replied, not once looking away from the wheat fields outside. They weren't too far from Hogsmeade now.

"I imagine that you will be made aware of this," he paused, smacking his lips loudly and making Harry cringe,"upon your meeting with Professor McGonagall".

Harry refused to let him win, "If it's just to retrieve my timetable, I can go and get it in the morning. I'm rather tired, and the journey's been-"

Snape shut his book with a thunk, and Harry trailed off.

His eyes turned towards Harry, who met them unflinchingly. Pitch black eyes with no discernible pupils tore into him. Harry felt the burning abyss within Snape's eyes, a writhing fire so profane even light refused to meet it. He'd seen these eyes once before, closer than now even, their noses practically touching then. The scar on his left arm itched. His magic tugged at him, desperate to burn emerald eyes into mystic ones and show Snape what a real illusion looked like, occlumency be damned.

Harry broke the subtle illusion without any difficulty, but it was Snape who spoke, "Sloppy Potter. Did you do anything except laze about this summer".

Harry resisted the urge to flare his nostrils, but enjoyed the edge in Snape's voice. He wondered if Snape and the others had been punished for losing track of him, "Sorry Professor, do you think I could have another try? I'm certain I'll do better".

If looks could spit, Harry would have been drenched. Snake returned to his book, "I have informed you that you are to seek out Professor McGonagall before making your way to the dormitories. Understood?"

Harry longed for the day that he could cuss Snape out, but before he could say a word, the carriage came to a stop with a sudden thunk. Snape, who Harry realized had timed his comeback with their arrival, clasped his book shut and leaned back, as Harry nearly lost his balance and fell from his seat. Catching himself just before he'd have slipped off, he forced his occlumency to the forefront to hide the embarrassment from his face.

Snape stood before Harry, and immediately made his way for the left exit. Harry, pulling his wand out, made to follow him from the other side. He let out a sigh of relief as the handle turned, and he stepped out onto the Hogsmeade countryside. Hours stuck in that cart with nobody but Snape had done terrible things to his mind.

As he stretched and enjoyed the familiar air, Snape spoke up behind him, "Upon this moment you are no longer my responsibility Potter. I trust that you will have the sense to refrain from any of your shenanigans within the bounded field".

Harry didn't bother responding, continuing to stretch and release the tension from his aching limbs.

He heard a grunt of disgust behind him, and footsteps as Snape turned away from the direction of the castle, "I have business to attend to. See to it that you don't get lost on the way to the castle".

Harry didn't bother turning around this time either. Whatever Snape was up to in Hogsmeade wasn't of any interest to him. As he walked on the trail towards the castle, he thought that whatever Snape was occupying his free time with would, at the very most, make him feel sad for his miserable existence.

Harry closed his eyes as he walk, and thanked God for the clean and fresh air. After spending hours with Snape and the stench of dead flesh confined to a single carriage, the Hogwarts air tasted even better than he remembered. He tried not to focus on the fact that he probably didn't smell too great either after the summer.

Letting out a pulse of magic, Harry felt the land around him come alive. One of the first things any real wizard learns is to see without their eyes and hear without their ears. Magic was a six sense unto its own that could replace all others. Tiny pulses painted a series of pictures of the trail to Hogwarts. He tried not to think on the familiar and nostalgic places he passed by. In such little time, so much had changed. His cheeks felt wet for some reason, as he walked in his trance. The land here was strong, bursting with magic from the many ages of wizards it had seen. He felt little goosebumps on his skin as the earth below slowly sent more and more magic up to him.

He couldn't feel the wind in his hair or the dampness under his eyes anymore. There was only his magic and the magic of the world. His feet gave way under him, but he continued to walk. He couldn't even feel which way he was facing. Soon, even the heat of the sun began to recede. Little pulses of magic raced up from the world and into him, and he came to a sudden stop, having walked the entire way in what felt like a moment.

Tears dripped down his cheeks as he lay his eye on the Majestic castle once more. He'd hoped to avoid feeling like this. He'd hoped to just focus on his magic as he made the walk. But, just as before, Harry had underestimated Hogwarts. He sighed, and wiped his cheeks dry with the hem of his robes.

As he made his way to the majestic castle, he did everything in his power to not actually look at the castle. The wards passed over him like a thick sludge, and Harry found the feeling distinctly unpleasant. He was protected of course, but after spending so long in the wild world, jumping from country to country, he'd developed an acute sense of just when he was under the influence of foreign magic. His brow furrowed. He couldn't stay, it was impossible. Not after he'd-

He shook his head. He'd spent three months away from the Order's grasp and he thought he was ready to take on the world. Three months and could feel the Hogwarts wards over his skin like an oil slick. He tried to busy himself with the walk, eyeing the great squid as it lazily breached the surface to enjoy the last rays of the sun. He soon came upon the trail that led to the Great Hall.

He eyed it warily, he could see students at the edges of the castle gates, enjoying the gardens and their free time before dinner. He considered going down to the Great Hall, ducking his pointing peers who'd surely make a commotion given his late arrival. Then going up to Professor McGonagall's office, saying hello and goodbye to every acquantice who passed him by and rebuffing every friend he'd ignored over the summer to talk later. McGonagall would probably be having office hours right now too, so he'd get the immense pleasure of having a class full of firsties make an exhibit out of him.

Harry snorted. Mystic eyes came alive.

He identified his target instantly. Maybe it was because of how intimately he knew her, but Harry genuinely thought he'd never seen anyone with more beautiful magic. Even in a castle full of thousands, hundreds of feet away, he'd be able to spot her. He'd said that to her once, only to get a smack and a 'stop flattering me when I'm mad' in response. He smiled, more than a touch of nervousness wracking his body. He was thankful to Dumbledore for his lie.

Harry began to head towards the castle, stepping off the trail and onto the gardens. The weeping willow moaned noisily behind him, but he paid it no mind. His eyes still burning as he approximated the distance to the castle. He wondered when he'd suddenly become excited to be back. Was it when he saw her magic, or when Hogwarts had refused to let him close his eyes?

He licked his lips in anticipation, and his wand began to blur.

A series of illusion charms hid his form as he rocketed into the sky. Even for a dark magus such as him, the air around Hogwarts was magnificent. As he barrelled into the heavens, the wind burst into his lungs and he took a deep breath of the magic omnipresent in the air. Far above the majestic castle, he focused his gaze on Gryffindor Tower. It was impossible not to be excited to come to Hogwarts, he decided. Something deep in the castle itself brought sanctuary to the souls of all those who laid their eyes upon it.

He began to fly towards his target. Invisible as he was nobody could see him approach, but he still left a trail of water vapour and mist behind him. Slowly, he moved into position and began to circle above the tower. His mystic eyes came alive once more as he noted her current position with annoyance. It was very much typical of her to be in the most inconvenient place to get to. He chuckled.

"Best not make that joke in front of her," he muttered.

He moved down towards the tower, avoiding the side that contained the female dorms entirely. He and Ron had learnt in their second year, during a quidditch pickup game that had turned into something else, that the windows on the girl's side of the dorms were charmed to burn terrible images into the minds of boys clever enough to try and take a peek. He had no intention of repeating that mistake and having to explain why his first act upon coming to Hogwarts was going girl watching.

Coming up just below the lowest windowsill in the common room, Harry flicked his wand as he crouched. Dispelling his flight, his legs returned just as he conjured an invisible platform under him. With his back to the tower, and his head just under the window, Harry chanced a glance and craned his neck upwards into the common room.

And immediately brought it back cursing down. Was there some kind of party going on in the dorms! He almost cussed out loud, did he arrive on the eve of a quidditch win or something? Leaning up to window once more, Harry took note of just how many people were present. Harry counted Ron among them, chatting up one of his quidditch teammates, the pretty one he absently noted. Oliver, Fred, George and Lee all playing gobstones in the corner. Cursing his luck, he thought his plan over.

Leaning back down, he realized that the situation wasn't as bad as it looked. In fact, it may even have worked to his advantage. Harry moved away from the window, conjuring invisible platforms as he carefully made his way over to the other side of the tower. His breath hitched in his throat as he stepped closer and closer to the window that led to the girls lavatories.

As he stopped just below the window, Harry nearly slapped himself. If he was caught doing this... Earlier the plan had been low-risk, high-reward, with the only downside being that he'd piss off McGonagall. Now though he was going to be messing with the ancient protections of Hogwarts castle, breaking and entering Gryffindor Tower while an entire crowd was gathered in the common room. He swallowed. If Dumbledore caught him, or if he messed up and fell, how was he going to explain his.

Behind him through the window, he heard a cough. His resolve hardened. Magic eyes burning, he turned and forced himself to look through the brick of the tower and into the bathroom. There she stood. Her red hair, this close to Harry, came alive under his eyes like writhing flames from the most beautiful star in the heavens. His throat felt enormously dry.

It was now or never. He dispelled his invisibility, and with a grunt he lifted himself upwards forcing magic eyes to look through the window. He saw nothing but black, and his eyes began to burn. His wand was already moving, and incantations burnt in mind like verses memorized long ago. Normally any student looking through the glass would see terrible images of bathing trolls, but no illusions worked on a bearer of mystic eyes. The boundary field that prevented him from interacting with the inside was still in full force.

Harry roared, uncaring of who would hear him. His wand sputtered sparks as he jabbed his spells into the woven tapestry of Hogwarts' magic. His wand shook violently in his hand as he moved to stabilize it with his other hand. These spells were delicate, Harry abruptly realized, and his own procedure was anything but.

With a start he cancelled the spell, pulling back his wand and breaking the chain. His eyes cancelled out and he nearly sent his wand plummeting to earth when he lost his grip. Shaking his head, Harry steadied himself.

He looked at the window, his yell would have surely-

It sat silent, reflecting the sunlight, the glare alone stopping him from looking inside. He blinked. He should have seen scenes of bathing beasts or pure darkness, but if he could see inside...

Harry reached out his hand gingerly, unclasping the lock on the windows. The fell open inwards with a slow creak. Harry's heart thumped loudly in his chest. He hadn't thought that it would have worked. Now that he was on the precipice, he realized just how unprepared he was. He chanced a look inside. He nearly screamed her name the moment he saw her.

She was turned towards the sink, her hands and eyes focused on what was within. Ginny was dressed in her beautiful church robes, black as the blackest night. Harry had bought them for her when she'd been ordained. The finest robes church vestments money could buy, stitched from the fur of a Nyx and blessed and dyed in the black blood of a saint. Most deacons couldn't boast of owning such a robe. He'd had them made bespoke, and privately had the tailor charm them to always hug her figure.

And speaking of that figure; he hopped through the open window and into the bathroom, silent as a ghost. He'd stopped caring about how he'd managed to open the window the moment he'd seen her hair. He was transfixed as he continued washing whatever she was washing in the sink. Harry's mind went wild, thinking of all the ways to surprise her. An explosion would have been perfect, but it'd have also alerted everyone else he was hair. He settled on something even better.

He felt giddy, like a little kid who was about to watch his favourite once-a-week show. Magic was practically radiating off him, but he kept under tight control. He'd not let a stray giggle spoil this moment.

He reached out, his speed greatly enhanced by the magic flowing off him. His fingers moved faster than he'd thought possible, digging into soft and silken red hair. He savoured the instant, before forming a fist and pulling back gently.

Harry winced as he realized he had a different definition of gentle than most people. Ginny cried out in shock and fell backwards, her hands flailing all over the place as she splashed water and flung a wet cloth into the air. Harry's other hand moved behind her knees. With a sharp, and this time far gentler, jab Harry bent her knees and left her fall back. His arms came up to catch up at the last moment. He knelt, cradling Ginny's shrieking form in his arms.

Ginny froze the moment she saw him. Brown eyes stared into green. Both of them said nothing. Ginny's hands slowly moved to her breast, one clutching the wet cloth she had been washing so fervently. Harry suddenly realized that it was her church coif. She stared up at him, her mouth frozen in a silent 'oh'. Harry only smirked. A single brow slightly raised as he held her.

'Im so fucking cool', Harry thought as he held her. He'd pulled this off perfectly.

The moment stretched on, as she lay in his arms. Then, with a hint of sadness, Harry took her empty hand and began to pull her upwards.

She took it gingerly, standing up so close to him that she might as well have stayed in his arms. She didn't say anything, but leaned her head against him. Harry noted that he'd grown taller, Ginny only came up to his breast now. He felt a moist patch grow on his robes.

It was he who broke the silence, he couldn't let her cry after all, "There's no reason to cry".

His arms came up to hold her close, and she dug her head further into his chest.

It amazed him how little time it took for her relief to turn into anger. Her tears dried up immediately, and Harry felt the wet spot on his robes turn searing hot for a moment before Ginny violently pushed him with all her strength.

Which, he thought glibly, wasn't all that much. She'd never been a particularly strong girl, with her slender frame and pale skin, but the last year and a half had turned Harry into a particularly strong man. She threw them apart, and then lashed out at his face still holding her dripping coif.

Harry was faster though, much faster. His hand wrapped around her wrist moments before the coif would have slammed into his face. His other hand struck at a blinding speed, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her struggling form close. He craned his neck to whisper into her ear.

"Shh! You don't want everyone to barge in right now, do you?" his voice came out far stronger than he actually felt. He felt the fake confidence cover his face, a smirk following.

Ginny ceased struggling, but refused to meet his eyes. She looked away from his chest, her knuckles going white against the coif. Here wrist was shaking in Harry's grip. Harry resisted the urge to probe her mind with legilimency, but he didn't need magic to feel her anger.

"You're hurting me," her voice was dead and flat. She dropped her coif.

Harry winced as it splattered to the ground. Her words stung, but he let go of her arm all the same. As she made to move away, his other hand came up behind her to try and hold her in place. Finding a comfortable spot on her back her brought her towards his chest. But,her arms came up at the last moment above her breast, as if shielding her.

"Let me go Harry," her voice dripping with ice.

Harry merely raised an eyebrow in response, "And if I don't?"

She shrunk at his tone, but Ginny never would back down, "Then I'll scream".

Harry almost laughed, "Go ahead. Let me know when and I'll join in".

She went quiet at that, but as he felt her begin to shake he realized he may have pushed her too hard, and slowly released her. She stepped back, bending over to pick up her coif and turn away from him.

Harry crossed his arms. He'd expected this kind of response, but thinking and experiencing were two different things. He resisted the urge to reach out to her. To touch her hair and grab her shoulder.

Her wand appeared from her sleeve, and she cast a quick warming charm on her coif. Folding the now dry clothing and holding it in both hands.

Harry wondered why she'd even bothered washing it like a muggle, "There's some great spells for cleaning-"

She interrupted him with a snort, and turned around thrusting her hat at Harry as a form of response. Harry's eyes widened as he saw the large pink penis shaped stain that dominated the top.

"You have to wash it out. Or at least that's what Katie told me," her voice was quiet, but harder than Harry remembered it being.

The mirror directly behind Harry broke with an audible crack. A single long lesion running diagonally. Ginny didn't seem to notice.

Harry spoke, keeping his anger in check, "Who did this?"

Ginny's chocolate eyes flickered over to him. She didn't seem to want to look up to have to meet his eyes, "And why would I tell you?"

Harry held up both hands in a mock defeat, "Sorry, you know I didn't mean it like that".

His mind aching from the after effects of using legilimency, Harry grit his teeth, instead allowing his anger to anger to burrow deep within him. He had the perpetrators faces, and Harry would exact his vengeance.

His hand reached out and gently trying to take the coif from Ginny's grasp. She was being petulant by holding on to it but she let go in the end.

Harry brought up his wand, touching the tip to the hem of the cloth. His eyes glazed over as he whispered, "TRACE ON".

Orange light burnt from the point of contact, spreading through the coif like a ripple and lighting the lavatory like a lantern. It burnt into the old cloth, leaving nothing but pure white behind. Harry tested the cloth with his thumb once the light died. Perfectly cast. He gingerly handed it back to Ginny, who took it not ungratefully.

She took a whiff of the powerful sterile scent wafting up from the cloth and asked, "What did you do? Assyrian dye doesn't respond to magic".

Harry nodded, "I didn't know what it was. I just got rid of the old one and made a new one".

Ginny let her genuine admiration show, "So you did something over the summer at least. Ron can barely even conjure".

Harry flinched at the implied accusation, "Ginny, did Dumbledore-"

She cut him off by looking square into his eyes. Ginny didn't have mystic eyes, or any kind of oracular magic. Harry always thought she might undiscovered legilimens, but the power her eyes had was incredible. He shut his mouth right there and then, the moment she let him know that if he kept talking she'd turn his chump two dollar ass into change.

Ginny's tone physically hurt him, "Really Harry? Dumbledore had you locked up in a tower cell, unable to send a single letter? You couldn't have let us know that you were safe at least? Or where you were? Or what you were doing?"

Harry flinched with every question, "Gin, please-"

But he'd been the one to light this fire, and now it was time to suffer for his actions. Ginny refused to let him speak, "Don't you call me that. Don't you dare. Not after you just up and vanished last year. After what happened Harry? Really?"

Harry didn't have anything to say. He truly had no explanation. Her anger bit into him like a blizzard. He felt numb.

Ginny stepped up right to him, their noses could have been touching, "Every single day, I would pray. I would fucking pray that I'd get a single letter from you, that Ron might have a nice dream about you. I'd sit by the window and I'd pray that you were safe".

She dripped venom as she continued, "And what about you? Where the fuck were you? Did you even care about us, or did you go out of your way to hurt us?"

Harry's eyes burnt alive and anger came rising to the forefront. Mystic eyes stared Ginny down, "If I remember right, you were the one that said we were over".

He could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Even the commotion from the common room seemed a thousand yards away.

Ginny had a look of incredulousness on her face, before a cool anger replaced it, "That's right Harry. We are over. And if I had any doubts about that before, you sure as killed them over the summer".

She turned to leave as his heart deflated. She always knew just what to say to make it burn. As she made for the common room, he was still for a moment. But just for a moment.

He was there, holding her arm again, before he realized he'd moved. This time, Harry saw the tears growing in her eyes. He resolved not to let her go. His grip tightening as he pulled her to face him.

Neither of them spoke, but Harry broke the silence, "You look so hot in that dress you know".

Ginny didn't reply, but Harry could see the outline of a suppressed smile break out on her face. He moved his hands to her waist and pulled her closer, moving to her back and bending down to bury his nose in her hair. Ginny made no move to resist, her hands clutching her coif as she subtly leaned into Harry.

"Really," Harry continued, his breath running down her cold neck, "You look so beautiful Gin..."

He trailed off, lost in the fiery scent of her hair. He didn't have an apt comparison for the smell, but he'd always told her he thought it was what Heaven must have smelled like.

Ginny seemed to mull her answer, her cheek pressed close against his chest, "You think so?"

Harry pulled back to plant a soft kiss on her forehead, "Don't ask silly questions. A good wizard never seeks knowledge he already possesses".

The last bit was said in what Harry considered to be a pitch perfect imitation of Snape, eliciting a soft giggle from Ginny.

At this tiny ounce of encouragement, he continued, "And besides, I had those robes made for you. You of all people should know how much I love it when you wear them".

His hands roamed up and down her back. Going lower as he noticed her shyly avert her eyes.

Ginny's lips came up to his neck, her hot breath pooling there as she spoke, "You like how soft they feel on me?"

As she arched her spine slightly backwards, Harry's attention on her renewed. His fingers traced patters all over the soft Nyx skin that covered her back. He moaned an affirmative to her question.

He felt Ginny mouth a silent 'oh' onto his neck, her voice piping up as he pulled her even closer, "And do you like how they fit on me?"

She wiggled her hips in his hands and Harry nodded maybe a little too fast. It had been so long since he had held Ginny like this that his mind was going a little haywire. His magic, tuned to respond to every situation, felt like static moving through his body. Every feel of Ginny clouded his mind further and further. His grip grew stronger.

It was then that a sharp pinch on his left nipple broke him out of his reverie. Harry yelped, both hands coming up in self defence and Ginny took the opportunity to take a step back. Harry covered his breast and nearly bent over. Damn it, was the woman trying to take his bloody nipple with her?

Ginny spoke before him, "Take a good look Harry, notice anything different?"

Her words cut into Harry like a hot knife through butter. Raw and unmitigated panic rose within him. Mystic eyes came alive as he analyzed every single detail of her face in real time. A second became a minute and a minute became an hour. All previous images of Ginny were closely compared and contrasted. The answer became clear just as his nipple started hurting again.

Harry huffed, "Ginny, if you think I didn't notice your new face cream, you're wrong. You also didn't have-"

When fire flooded her eyes Harry knew he'd made a terrible mistake, "No Harry. In case you didn't notice, these aren't the vestments you bought me".

Harry blinked, privately he realized how stupid he looked.

"I wore them the first time since summer when I came back for the welcoming feast, and I realized," she paused shoot him a glare, "that they were a little too tight".

Harry blinked again.

Ginny didn't seem to mind, continuing, "I wore Ron's cloak over them, but I had to take it off during the choir. And do you have any idea what I looked like standing up in there?"

Harry began, "Ginny, I didn't mean to-"

"Professor Snape pulled me aside after the feast, after everyone had already seen me, and told me that my clothing wouldn't be appropriate for clergy services in the future. He told me to have the robe refitted, or just buy a new one. He said I could wear any black robes so long as they didn't make me look like a Knockturn Alley harlot," she hadn't once raised her voice, but Harry'd have preferred it had she screamed.

She turned around and began to adjust her coif, "I have an exorcism to prepare for. Everyone decided get together and do a little welcoming feast for you since you missed the actual thing. I'd hoped to have missed you, but I guess I wasn't so lucky".

She spared him one glance, her hair riding up into the charmed coif and forming the church braids. Hidden black keys in her hair coming alive as hairpins, "Enjoy your party Harry".

She made for the door, and Harry found himself with nothing to say. But as she reached the door handle, he found his Gryffindor courage.

"Gin, I need to talk to you".

Her hand hovered above the handle, but her voice was softer now, "Go and meet everyone. Ron needs you, a lot more than I do these days. After that..."

She turned around to meet his eyes, and Harry resisted the impulse to use his mind magic to search her feelings.

"After that, I'll be in Saint Helena's chapel in preparation all night. You can stop by," her parting words were said as she moved into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

Harry stood alone in the women's washroom, his nipple aching painfully. He chanced a look at where Ginny was a moment ago, but then tore his eyes away to the wall. He would have to leave the bathroom and enter the common room via the windows. He couldn't very well be seen leaving the girls bathroom after all.

Sitting on the windowsill, Harry brought his ocular magic to life, mystic eyes giving him his second sight. Through the wall, he could see into the common room. Alica, Fred and George, Oliver and Angelica, Comrac, Jordan, Katie... Was there anyone who decided not to come?

Nearly turning his gaze away, Harry's attention snapped back as his eyes glimpsed an outline he had far from been expecting to see. His eyes widened as he sought focus over the image he was seeing. What was he doing here? More importantly, how did he even get in here. It was clear that no one else in the room had noticed him,.

Harry's heart sped up as a smile graced his lips. How very interesting. Why was Draco Malfoy hiding in the Gryffindor common room during Harry's surprise welcome?


	4. Chapter Two

This chapter is pretty bad too. It suffers from the same stuff but somehow ever worse. Dialogue is not my thing and in my defense english is my fourth language.

**Chapter Two: Reunions**

He'd entered the party with a bang.

Reasoning that it was *his* party, he'd decided to make an entrance by bursting in a through the windows, smoke trailing behind him. He'd entered with such force that he'd have cracked the glass and thrown the window from its hinge were it not for the unbreakable enchantments of Hogwarts.

As he clinked glasses with Lee Jordan and the twins, Harry spared a glance at Malfoy's hiding spot near the corner under the stairs. He'd chosen his hiding spot well, Harry admitted. Having expended more than the necessary amount of magic to make his entrance, he hoped that Malfoy might carry stories of how he flew all the way to Hogwarts. He hoped that he might be able to dissuade the little death eaters from joining the crusade, or just scare them a little if nothing else.

He lost his train of thought as he ducked another squealing girl, barely turning a hug into a handshake. He'd spied Dean Thomas over by the drinks earlier, and didn't care for having his every move reported to Ginny. His eyes narrowed as he tuned out the conversation and focused his magic on Dean. It was like finding a particularly nasty bug in one's flowers. Maybe this was the year he did something about Ginny's 'best friend'.

"...and Ron'll be so glad to finally see ya".

Ron's name broke him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, we heard from him how Dumbledore had you cooped up and all, must've been a straight mess".

Harry snorted, "You have no idea mate. Couldn't have sent a bloody letter to save my life. Didn't even let me go to Diagon to buy my books," he chugged the rest of his firewhisky. He never much liked lying to friends.

Stopping the chorus of 'old man Dumbles' jokes before they began, Harry inquired, "Speaking off, have any of you seen Ron? He and I were supposed to-"

Alica and Comrac interrupted him simultaneously, but it was Comrac who kept talking, "Oh mate you have no idea. Ron's been having a hell of a good time ever since he got back".

Harry raised an eyebrow inquisitively at Alica, who hesitantly added, "Ron's been partying a little too much recently. I get that its welcome week but you can't sleep through quidditch practice".

Harry rose to defend his friend, laughing, "You should see me on a broom. Ron could outfly me even if he decided to pass out in the air halfway through".

Alica shied from away from saying more, but Comrac just huffed and had to have the last word, "If you see him without a j in his mouth, come and let me know. I'll have Dennis take a picture so it'll last longer".

Harry noted how Fred and George kept their mouths shut as laughter filled the room, even Katie hiding a smile at comic's joke. Their silence and the tone of the room spoke volumes. Harry resolved to find Ron as soon as he could. Only Seamus seemed to eye Comrac with distaste, and hurried to change the topic.

Harry tuned out the conversation after giving some nonsense cryptic reply over why he'd gotten a tan. He'd forgotten what he'd said almost as soon as he said it, his mind going deep into his magic as he put his face on. He tuned out their arguments over his meaningless comments and began to search for Ron. It was strange that he hadn't found him by now. Inwardly he cursed at how different the Weasley siblings were. Ginny shone like a bonfire to his senses while Ron was always hovering at the edges, nearly invisible. Still, he needed to find Ron and warn him about Malfoy's presence. Two heads were better-

"..from Hermione?"

The name triggered his conscious mind, and he returned to the conversation.

"Sorry, what'd you say?" Harry responded, his eyes clearing up in an instant.

Demelza blinked, and Harry inwardly cursed. Given by how everyone was looking at him, he hadn't done a good job of putting on his face. Had three months in the wild really changed him irreparably? He fought the urge to flee as Demelza took the heat off him.

"Have you heard from Hermione recently? How's America been treating her," she repeated.

"I actually haven't heard from her in a while, but last we talked she was doing fine. We talked a bit over the muggle telephone," he lied. He took a sip of his drink to mask the foul taste on his tongue.

Parvati wrinkled her nose. Katie seemed dissatisfied by his answer, "Did you pass on our message? How come she never responded to our letters?"

"You know, I just stopped writing to her after the third sarcastic letter," Parvati chimed in. Harry's right eye twitched at her tone.

Alica turned to Demelza, "I wrote to her all of last year telling her how much I missed her and what a mess things were, and she didn't even respond once".

Seamus rolled his eyes, "Hell, I don't think last year was as messed for her as it was for us, so she really doesn't have an excuse".

Comrac returned with three drinks, pushing through Katie and nearly spilling his drink on her. Ignoring her annoyed 'hey', he handed one of the drinks to Harry and the other to Lee. Harry was thankful for the distraction, and for the drink.

And the feast drained on. Slowly but sure, the party dispersed, most people just having better things to do.

As Comarc and Lee began to plan a game of gobstones, Harry resigning himself to just watching, they all took up a place near the fire. Harry ended up sandwiched between Comrac and Katie, while Lee set up the board opposite him. He sipped idly at his drink as the chatter around him continued. He wanted to finish his drink and go looking for Ron. He had a lot to catch his best friend up on. Dumbledore's picture felt heavy in his pocket. He needed Ron's advice, and more importantly he needed Ron's dreams.

It was Katie who broke his train of thought by tugging softly on his robe, her voice just quiet enough to prevent eavesdroppers in such a crowd, "So, you actually came back?"

Harry would've been amused by the shock in her voice, had McLaggen not handed him some five drinks already. He almost burped a response before covering his mouth and muttering an 'excuse me'.

Katie smiled as her eyes danced, her finger came up to quickly brush against his unshaven scruff, "You look like you enjoyed your summer though?"

Harry nodded, he wasn't even close to being drunk he resolved. Flitwick had once downed an entire bottle of Odgen's Finest to demonstrate the potent defences of a magus, and Harry had already noticed some of his hairs turning white. He met Katie's eyes while stifling another burp.

"If you're asking where I was, you of all people should know," he made sure to be as quiet as he could in the crowd, relaxing his shoulders and angling his body towards her.

Katie seemed to be enjoying the moment, "You're a little close Harry," she whispered, her eyes moved over to the corner of the room, "Dean's on the prowl tonight, you don't want to get in trouble".

The whisky turned sour in Harry's mouth as he made sure to slowly inch away. His eyes moved over to Dean, seated alone in the corner, subtly watching over the cool kids. Dean wouldn't have approached him on his own but Harry would have said hello if he... Well that's not true he just wouldn't have said hello to Dean. Dean reminded him of a more vengeful, weaker and all around pathetic version of himself when he was eleven. If he had also been a colossal prick that kept obsessing over girls who had no interest in him.

Katie seemed to notice his sudden discomfort, and moved even closer towards him.

"Are you going to do something about that?" her voice too innocent and playful for her actions.

Harry let out an undignified grunt as he finished his drink. He leaned back, stretching out his arms and landing them on top of the backrest. His drink dangling over Katie's side, he might as well have put his arm around her if not for...

"Quit it Harry let me concentrate!" Comrac protested as he gripped his ear from behind and gave it a slight yank. The game wasn't going so well for him Harry idly noted.

"Concentrate on getting me another drink, would you mate?" Harry posed playfully. He clinked his empty glass on the wooden backrest and leaned back, relaxing in the Gryffindor hearth.

Comrac didn't even bother taking his eyes off the game, "Ask Katie, she's closer".

Katie didn't bother waiting for him to ask, taking Harry's glass and heading for the drinks table in a twirl. Demelza and Alica watched her go, retreating into their own private conversation on the other side of the fire.

Harry took the moment to ease his muscles a little more. It had been so long since he'd actually be able to relax, he'd almost forgotten what it'd felt like. He absently noted, as his abdominal muscles contorted under his robes, that Dean was paying rather close attention to Katie while she mixed him a drink. Harry really was beginning to seriously consider Katie's earlier suggestion.

Turning his attention to the board, he sent a few snide comments Comrac's way and gave Lee a quick high five. Seamus jumped in and began to pressure Harry into a game of gobstones he'd surly have agreed to, had Demelza not captured his attention with a story of how her summer had almost turned dangerous.

"And the entire building came down right next to us! We were just a few blocks away, and my dad actually went out to see what was going on," describing how she and her family and nearly been caught in the Paris bombings. Normally Harry would have just let the story go, but given how his own summer had gone, he felt he had the right to chime in.

By the time Katie returned with his ice cold drink, he was thoroughly enjoying himself, the crowd captured by his story of his encounter with the Quintaped.

"You're a doll Katie," he slurred, interrupting his story to eye the arrangement of limes and cherries in his drink. The girl in question only gave a non-committal shrug and a smile before plopping down right next to him.

"Do you mind Harry?" Alica prodded, urging him to continue.

"What're you all talking about?" Katie posed, faster than Harry to the question. Or maybe Harry was just being slow. He eyed his drink warily.

"Harry fought a Quintaped this summer! Can we get back to the story now?" Demelza exclaimed, as if that was all the explanation Katie needed.

Harry felt as if he needed to clear up Katies shellshocked expression, "Dem's just bein' nice. I didn't fight the thing so much as I did try and run away from it".

He tilted his drink towards Demelza, nearly spilling some, "Its nice that you think I could actually fight one of those things though".

Demelza beamed as Comrac piped in, his game happily forgotten, "I still don't get while you were on the Isle of Drear mate, but the tan looks good on you".

Harry, curious why everyone kept bringing it up, "Is is that noticeable? Like even right now?"

Seamus shrugged, but nodded along with Katie and Alica, "The fire's kinda bright but yeah mate, you don't even look like a Brit anymore".

Alica seemed to agree, "He looks Greek. Did you go to Greece at all this summer Harry? You said you were in Turkey so-"

Katie interrupted her, moving closer to Harry as if to examine him, "He actually looks more Turkish than Greek. You didn't use that muggle machine that makes your skin darker did you?"

Harry laughed, "No, no, this is all just from some training I've been doing. Don't worry about it, now that I'm back to Hogwarts weather, this'll all wear off in no time".

Laughter strung out through the common room. Harry smiled, a bitter taste clinging to the inside of his mouth. As if he could actually stay.

He felt Katie shift next to him, and Alica's voice broke out, "At least finish the story!"

"Please, I'm dying to know how you're not a ghost," Seamus added.

The smile didn't fade as he opened his eyes to continue. He'd missed his friends.

His head hurt and it was way too late.

He stalked the corridors of Hogwarts castle. He needed to find George and Fred. Or was it Fred and George? he wondered whether there was really any difference as he passed the same portrait for the third time. Coming to a stop, he blinked and tried to clear his head.

Midnight had already fallen, he realized as he eyed the sky through the arching castle windows. Moonlight flooded the hallways, casting everything in a pale and ghostly light. Around him, the portraits went about their nightly business. Some scanning for students out past curfew, some asleep and some hopping between frames on their way through the castle.

Harry snorted. He made sure to do it loudly. Almost every painting and the enchanted suits of armour that lined the hallway should have heard him and come crushing down upon this student so blatantly in violation of the rules. Yet, nothing came. Not a single portrait moved, and the suits of armour bled into the background in the moonlight.

There was a time, Harry idly noted, when this would have been an extreme challenge for him. When sneaking through the corridors at night would have inspired fear in him and his friends. He sighed, his drunk mind waxing nostalgic. How quickly childhood unravels. Someone had said that to him once.

He tried to clear his mind once more, this time letting his eyes burn bright with emerald light that shot into the castle. He could see Fred and George close by. He'd hoped to find them in the dorms after everyone had gone to sleep, but their beds had been filled with decoys meant for McGonagall.

Thankfully, the twins were among the easier Weasley siblings to locate. The fact that they were always together was unique in and off itself. Together, the two of them resonated well with each other and broadcast a distinct scent to Harry's magical magical nose.

He came to a rather sudden stop in front of a statue. Harry crinkled his forehead. This wasn't where he remembered it being. Had he come the wrong way again? A brief burst of emerald light told him that the twins were indeed directly ahead but...

There should have been a hallway where a statue now stood. Harry dumbly tired to look around the statue, maybe hoping to find a hole he could crawl through but found a wall staring back at him. His confusion intensified as he now realized that he was almost nose to nose with a statue, somehow at a dead in smack dab in the middle of Hogwarts' hallways.

A privacy spell burst into existence behind him. The laughter the laughter that followed broke his concentration, and scuttled his fears.

His shoulders slumped as he turned around to greet the twins staring glibly at him. Their smiles were infectious, and Harry couldn't help but match them.

"Ha Ha, very funny guys," he said sardonically.

"What is this, a lost little lamb we've found George," said George.

"Indeed we have Fred, found him trying to substitute a statue for our sister have we?," added Fred.

Harry ignored the jest and turned back to the statue, "What is this, some kind of false wall?"

George feigned surprise, "I dunno Harry, methinks you just wandered down the wrong way. What say you George?"

Fred nodded sagely, "I concur, you've forgotten the lay of the land after leaving England for so long".

The twins started expectantly at him, but Harry merely rolled his eyes as he reached out with his mind magic. Gentle mental fingers brushed against the braille book of the mind and Harry smirked as knowledge rushed through his eyes.

He turned towards the false dead end, "I bet you two just called it something nuts. You couldn't go easy and just sell it as a false illusion receptacle, you guys probably called it something ridiculous".

Fred seemed impressed, "Damn Harry, how do you always do that?"

Harry smirked. Legilimency worked wonders on those who didn't even know it existed, "Just gave it a quick inspection that's all, what're you guys calling it?"

"Dumb Man's Dead End Powder!" George practically exclaimed.

As Harry reached out to rub his fingers against the wall, Fred chimed in, "Well, its a working title. But what do you think Harry, we made good use of that Triwizard money eh?"

Harry absentmindedly nodded. It actually was rather impressive. He knew from his legilimency probe that all that was required was tearing open a sachet of powder and spilling it onto the ground. He even felt the illusory dust on his fingers as he inspected the false wall. A small pulse of magic he sent out actually returned saying that the wall was really there!

Harry shook his head, "Have you guys shown this to Snape? This is some really impressive potions work and-"

Fred didn't seem to want to hear it, "Bugger Snape Harry, we're going to show this to the whole world once we're out of here".

George pulled out a small pouch and began to rummage within, "When you're a little less sloshed you oughta come and find us, we got a lot to talk about y'know. If we're actually going to take these things to market safely".

Harry agreed. As George handed him a sachet of green powder, Harry closely tried to examine as much about it as he could. It really was an impressive piece of work. Any wizard could, without the use of a wand or any prior knowledge, cast a spell that created a hard false-illusion that could adapt to a variety of circumstances.

"And if I did this in a forest while someone was chasing me-"

George excitedly nodded, "If you spilled it between two trees, maybe you'd get a wall of vines or cobwebs. We tested it with the entrance to Nimue's Cave, and as much as we could around the burrow. It worked fine, except when we threw it in the river".

Fred waved him off, "Even that's fixable, we just gotta make it heavier. It already repels water, with a little bit of work it should sink right down".

George echoed his brothers sentiments, about to add on to the usefulness of his product when Harry interrupted him, "Guys, this is great and all, but I just got back. I was looking for you two for a reason".

They seemed amused by his answer, clearly enjoying his drunkenness, "And however can we help the illustrious Harry Potter?"

Usually, Harry would have kid around with the twins a bit more, but as the moon sank lower into the sky, he realized he was running short on time.

"You guys have any idea where Ron is?" Harry asked, rubbing his temples. The twins had a way of coming across like children, energetic and exciting, but utterly tiring to a drunk Harry.

The twins blinked in unison and turned to stare at each other, George answering for them both, "No, we thought that he joined the rest of you guys in the common room. He didn't come down?"

Harry grew more disturbed with each passing word, "No, I haven't even seen him since I got back. Where is he, and why wasn't he in the common room?"

Fred and George exchanged another glance, "We all found out you were going to be coming yesterday".

George continued, "Ron's been a bit out of sorts over the summer. When we got back... well, you best go see for yourself".

Fred didn't seem to want to mince words, "Yeah, we talked to him this morning when we realized he hadn't come down at all yesterday".

"Told him you were coming and all. He said he had a fair bit of work to catch up on, and that he might've been a bit late but..." George trailed off.

Fred leaned forward as George drew back, "Listen mate, I know you're sloshed to hell, but we need to talk about Ron as well".

George looked out the window and into the night sky, not meeting Harry's eyes, "I don't know if you got our letters, but life at the burrow wasn't exactly easy this summer".

Harry felt shame creep up in his throat, "About that, guys Dumbledore had my mail and-"

George waved him off, "Don't worry about it, just go find Ron yeah? And try and catch us tomorrow Harry. Like I said, lots to talk about".

Fred patted him on the shoulder and they both made to move towards the illusory wall. George sparing a look back at Harry as he moved through the false dead end and out the other side. Harry stood for a moment, watching them go through mystic eyes. He admired their work as well. They couldn't fool his eyes, but almost no illusion could. He spend a moment observing the wall and statue with newfound clarity, his wand inching forward slowly towards the statue's eye.

"*Finite*," he whispered. The illusion instantly came undone, breaking apart into a thick, fluorescent green smoke that exploded into being as the wall vanished. The sudden burst of pungent gas surprised Harry, and he nearly vomited as he smelled how revolting the ensuing gas was. His invisibility charms came undone as the smoke washed over him and he coughed violently into his sleeve.

"Good lord!"

"My goodness, I do protest!"

"Guards! Guards! Come quick there's a boy out of bed!"

"What's the racket-"

"Oh Lord it burns, it burns! Stop this please!"

His protections dispelled, Harry bolted from the hallway, using the foul smoke as he cover, he quickly turned a corner and reapplied his protections. As he felt Mrs. Norris' distinct magic come into his periphery, he turned and cast a full set of illusory protections to throw off the cat's senses.

Her meows echoed through the castle as Harry made for the Room of Requirement.

As Harry neared the Room of Requirement, his nostalgia kicked into full force. Maybe it was because he was drunk. Maybe it was because he wondered how things had gotten so messed up so fast. He remembered walking up these very steps, Ron and Hermione at his side, as he took his first few steps into the world of magic. The first few steps to growing a spine and standing up for himself, wand in hand. It had once been so wondrous. He absently blinked his eyes dry. The drink was making him too sentimental.

He hadn't realized that he'd already reached his destination. The true dead end that blocked the path to the room of requirement stood in his way. His eyes closed on their own, and he instinctively began to walk across it three times. He could have forced it open, or just have used legilimency. His tutelage under the Moon Princess had broadened his understanding of the room, and being in its presence after her teachings felt strange to him.

'*I seek the place where all my troubles melt away*', Ron could have been nowhere else.

He opened his eyes to find a door embedded itself in the wall. The handle felt warm as Harry moved to enter the illusion. The difference between his new surroundings and the dark of the hallway hit his drunk mind like a truck.

Soft jazz music filled the air, sunlight streamed in from a glass ceiling that shone a cloudless sky. Fountains trickled throughout the room, their blessed water working to purify the air. He stepped onto the lush grass that grew in patches throughout the room, the soft wood creaking under his weight. He noted the distinct purple tint to the entire space.

In the centre of it all was his friend; lazing about on a series of sofas that circled a pile of books, a radio, several quidditch magazines, and the rest of most of Ron's belongings. The sunlight looked good on him, Harry abruptly realized. Ron and Ginny had the same hair, but Ron's only seemed to come alive when he was in this room. The man in question had finally noticed Harry and turned his head, a smouldering joint sticking out of his mouth.

Their eyes met and Harry resisted the urge to use legilimency on his friend. Ron would know, and that wasn't how he wanted to start their reunion. Not after he'd-

"You son of a bitch!" Ron practically screamed, purple smoke and cigarette flying out of his mouth with a healthy amount of spittle.

Ron stood, throwing a blanket off his shirtless body. He'd risen so quickly that he'd flung the bowl of snacks in his lap halfway across the room. He nearly lost his balance and fell when his foot landed in a bucket Harry didn't particularly care to closely examine.

Nonetheless, he persevered. Steadying himself on the spine of the couch, he flung his foot towards the far end of the room. It only took three kicks for the bucket to go flying into the wall, a series of cans and vials scattering across the grouping of beanbags near the back. With his leg free, Ron's attention turned to Harry.

Harry was already halfway there. Door shut and sealed behind him, his arms instinctively struck out to embrace his friend. His drunkenness and whatever state Ron was in helped him ignore that Ron was shirtless as they hugged, his momentum nearly throwing Harry into the air.

He didn't much mind that his friend didn't have a shirt on. Ron was someone he'd deeply missed. It felt good to see him again.

They broke apart almost immediately, both beaming like firsties having snuck into the girl's changing rooms after a hard-won game. Ron's hands slammed down on his shoulders so hard they'd have buckled a lesser man's knees.

"You son of a bitch! The hell have you been huh!" Harry loved Ron dearly but the spittle was a little much.

He backed away and cleaned his face with a wave of his wand, then looked into his friend's bloodshot eyes. Ron's eyes didn't match the grin on his face, but Harry still found his smile every bit as infections as the twins'.

He shrugged, "You know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that, just headed off to Paris, took in the-"

Ron's hand moved faster than he'd expected and Harry would later maintain that it had only been due to his drunkenness. His open palm struck Harry's ear fast and true, leaving a horrid ringing in his hungover mind.

"Goddamit Ron! Go easy on me, I'm hungover as hell. I had like twenty drinks," he protested holding his ear.

Ron only seemed to smile even more, "Go easy on you? You vanish on my ass for three months and you think I'm gonna go easy on you? And what're you doing drinking without me in the first place?"

Harry bit back, "What're you doing smoking without me then? And where were you? We had a good time in the common room. Hell, you missed Demelza dude. You should've seen what she had on when-"

Ron interrupted him, "Wait, what?" That was when?"

Harry wasn't surprised by Ron's answer but before he could say another word, Ron was already racing away from him like a madman. Harry winced inwardly at his friends energy, just what was Ron on?

Before he could speak, Ron had begin rummaging in the chests that littered the room. Harry watched as his friend withdraw his wand, unicorn hair ever sticking out the pointy end, along with a handful of perfectly rolled purple cigarettes.

With a wave of his wand, the purple cones began to levitate behind Ron as he walked back to Harry and took a seat on the nearest bean bag.

"Shit mate sorry for missing your welcome back jerk off. I wanted to drink, not watch Seamus suck you dry. Let's fix that now though, yeah?" he said, plucking a joint from the volatile pile and motioning to the seat next to him.

Harry was too tired to argue. Ron's room had that effect on a person. The smile came unbidden to his face as he unceremoniously plopped down next to Ron. He took his glasses off and tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose, he felt Ron light the cigarette with a flick of his wand. Just one, he assured himself. Just one while he caught up with Ron, and to get rid of his headache before he went to see Ginny.

Leaning back, Harry let his facade drop for the first time tonight. His magic pulled into himself, coalescing as he relaxed. He didn't have a care in the world. Not here, not in this room. The smouldering sound bit into his ear as Ron inhaled. The smile came unbidden to his face as he hoped his friend wouldn't slobber all over the filter.

He watched his friend exhale, the thick purple smoke billowing out of his nose, ears and mouth. His eyes glazed over as he leaned back, trying to keep his throat from coughing. Harry snorted as he saw his friend struggle, and plucked the joint from his outstretched hand.

He let it burn for a moment as Ron spoke up, "What's with the tan?"

Harry tossed him the nearest bottle in his reach. He watched as Ron eagerly tipped it in thanks and took a long drink.

"It's that obvious huh? The girls all seem to love it, though Katie said I looked Turkish if you can believe it," he finished his remark by placing the joint at his lips and inhaling deeply.

The purple smoke rushed down his throat as the embers churned; Harry subtly manipulated the magical herb to burn faster, deeper, as he continued to inhale. Ron watched with a single eyebrow raised. It filled his lungs in an instant.

He removed the joint and closed his eyes, letting the smoke come rushing out of all his oral orifices at once. Acutely tuned magic circuits in his eyes responded to the drug's call as a pink glaze worked its way over his eyes. He let the cigarette hang in the air, enjoying the abrupt feeling of nostalgia and relaxation that immediately took hold of him.

Ron swiped the joint back in an instant, "Bitches are right Harry, you do look Turkish. The hell have you been mate?"

Harry didn't bother holding back, "Fuck Ron. This summer got real messed, real fast. I know Dumbledore told you he had me under lock and key and that's why-"

Ron interjected, "Nah, I knew that was bullshit. I saw you, you know, running from him. Saw that a lot".

Harry was a little taken back by the tone of his voice, but relaxed as Ron continued, "I just ate that crap for Ginny's sake. I don't think she bought it either, but I did what I could for you mate".

Harry's eyes flickered over to his shirtless comrade. Friend really was the wrong word to describe their relationship. He knew Ron had several brothers, and a sister to boot, but Harry had always considered Ron his only one. He hoped his eyes could convey his gratitude, and his shame.

"Thanks mate," he said simply, passing Ron the burning herb.

Ron shook his head as he took it, "Don't worry. But you were about to tell me what you'd actually been up to, yeah?"

Harry nodded, but as he was about to continue, Ron noisily stretched a single arm far into the air and brought it down to begin scratching his back.

Harry didn't care to see more of Ron's armpits, "Mate, would you throw on a shirt yeah?"

Ron laughed in response, inhaling and scratching at the same time. He spoke as he exhaled, purple smoke clouding his speech, "You're bonkers mate, you're the one that needs to take you're shirt off!"

Harry snorted in response, "No homo yeah?"

Ron rolled his eyes and passed him the cigarette, "Look around you, I changed things up a bit. You really want to sweat through your fancy robes?"

Harry didn't think his robes were particularly fancy, but he conceded to Ron's point. The air smelt of freshly cut grass, tinged with a thick sweet odour, and the sunlight felt across his skin in soothing waves. Above him, the cloudless sky shone beautifully, the wafting purple smoke only enhancing the room. Ron had a wonderful imagination, Harry noted. Despite never having been there, Ron had brought California back to Harry.

"I'll pass on that yeah," he replied, doing his best not to cough as he loudly exhaled.

Ron shrugged and took the joint back, but Harry noticed how he'd tensed up after his refusal, "Whatever you say man. Anyways, back to where you'd been?"

Harry again resisted the urge to use legilimency. Ignoring the feeling that something was off, he turned towards his friend, "Shit Ron, this summer started out a mess. I was supposed to be in America a week yeah? Remember my first letter?"

Ron nodded, taking a second drag to steady himself, "I remember your only letter, yeah".

Harry didn't let his hurt at Ron's anger show, "That went to shit almost from the start. Guess who showed up at Slughorn's doorstep on our first day, right under the MACUSA guards?"

Ron motioned for Harry to hurry, passing him the joint. Harry put it to his lips before answering, "Fucking Death Eaters".

Ron stared as Harry inhaled, his eyes widening as he impatiently waited for Harry to continue.

Harry quickly acquiesced, "Not just any fucking Death Eaters. Black's old pals. Fucking Rodolphus Lestrange and his merry band found out Slughorn was in New York and somehow managed to find both of us".

Ron snatched the cigarette out of his hand, "The fuck Harry, what the fuck! Why the fuck was Rodolphus fucking Lestrange looking for you in New York? The point was to go with Slughorn because you'd be safe and-"

Harry interrupted Ron with a snort, "Slughorn's dead".

He could have probably timed that better, as Ron had been in the middle of inhaling. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he turned away from Harry, his mouth exploding away from the joint and sputtering purple smoke and spittle. Harry waited patiently as Ron coughed his lungs out, quietly casting a charm to make Ron's drink walk over to him. He absently added a cooling charm as well, to help with his throat.

Ron didn't bother with his drink, "What the fuck Harry! This is the kind of shit you put in a letter every now and then!"

Harry glanced over as Ron began to drink, the joint all but forgotten on the ground. He'd hoped to break the news to Ron easily, but Slughorn's death had been the first step in the long chain of disasters that made up his summer. He wasn't going to sugarcoat it for Ron.

"It gets worse," he continued as Ron snatched another cigarette from the air, "After that I ended up stuck in New York. I barely managed to lose the death eaters, and I managed to get through to Dumbledore. But, by the time he'd caught up with me I'd had to leave New York".

Ron's let out a cloud of purple smoke, the awe evident on his face, "Fuck Harry, what happened? Where'd you go?"

Harry sighed, taking the cigarette from Ron, "It got really messed up really fast Ron. Slughorn got hit by a stray shot, I think. Some idiot. I don't get why, both of us were people they'd want to capture, not kill..."

He let that thought hang in the air and exhaled, "Anyways, I managed to get away from them and send a message to Dumbledore. For some reason, the stupid American owl took forever to reach him and by the time Dumbledore got to New York I was already gone".

He moved the joint over to Ron, "Apparently a fifteen year old kid hiding away in the cheapest room in New York attracts a lot of attention".

Ron was less focused on the joint than he was on Harry, despite it being his toke. His eyes seemed sharp; bloodshot but they seemed completely unaware that they were supposed to be high.

"So what happened after they found you the second time? End up blasting the hotel apart to escape?" Harry didn't need legilimency to feel the worry in Ron's voice.

He shook his head, "Shit Ron, they found me while I was in the damn Woodworth building. Some random woman recognized my face, and before I knew it she was flinging curses at me in broad daylight. It was stupid of me to go back there, but I was hoping someone had reported Slughorn's death and...".

Ron listened in rapt attention, inhaling deeply as Harry continued, "I don't know, but she somehow signalled all her buddies to join up. I ran, and it ended up in total chaos. The MACUSA wizards are complete trash by the way. You'd think they'd have better security given that they're at war. Some twenty death eaters chased me till I hit a dead end in International Portkey Departures".

Harry took the joint from Ron before he had a chance to speak, and took a deep drag as Ron broke the silence, "Jesus Harry. Then what? You manage to grab hold of a random portkey?"

"Not exactly," Harry replied, exhaling as the memory of the incident floated before his eyes. His wand felt heavy in his hand, and Harry desperately hoped Ron wouldn't notice the lesions running down deep through the holly wood. That was the first instance of his inevitable divorce, he thought bitterly. A sudden urgency to find a suitable replacement, and to leave Hogwarts to do so, came over his mind.

He continued, ignoring the urge and passing the joint to Ron, "But yeah, something of the sort. I ended up catching some tourist's portkey to Los Angeles, along with three of Rodolphus' boys".

He leaned over towards Ron, "You're not gonna believe this. Remember Sylvian Thomas?"

Ron crinkled his brow in thought, "Yeah, he was a seventh year back when we were firsties. I think".

Harry shook his head and accepted the joint, "He was a fifth year when we were eleven but yeah. Anyways, he was one of the death eaters that ended up following me to California".

Ron's eyes widened as he took in what Harry said, "You can't be... Are you serious? Wasn't he nineteen or something? What's someone our age doing with-"

Ron cut himself off as he racked his brain. For all those who spoke of his friend's rough nature, Harry knew that Ron wasn't dumb. Even so strongly under the influence, Ron's mind refused to be shushed.

"Why is no one talking about it? If You-Know-Who is actually getting kids our age to sign up with him then-"

Harry passed him the joint, "Nah, it could have been a coincidence. He just happened to be the only death eater that I recognized, I didn't even get a clear look at the rest".

Ron prodded him to continue, "What happened in California?"

A dull throbbing had begun earlier in Harry's head and he eagerly sucked at the cigarette to help the ache, "Fuck Ron. I don't even know how I managed to take them out. Those guys weren't fucking around, but after I cut one of them pretty bad the other two decided to run off. Anyways, from there I ended up stuck on the streets in Los Angeles. I didn't even have any way to get to Dumbledore, and one of those bastards hit me with a weird curse".

Ron's interest piqued at that, "What do you mean 'a weird curse'?"

Harry snarled, "A tracking charm. I never found exactly how accurate it was, but it definitely told them the neighbourhood I was in".

He looked down at his hands as Ron lit another cigarette, "I think my mom's blood... Threw them off or something. They always just barely managed to miss me. The fuckers always had anti-apparition wards to fuck me with, but they never managed to catch me".

"Fuck Harry," was all Ron said. His friend passed him the joint and Harry took a deep and grateful toke.

He continued, emotions and words coming loose for the first time in a long while, "Fuck, it was a real shit-show. I don't know just how long that stupid tracer lasted, but it was definitely over a week. By the time they were done chasing me, fuck Ron, let me tell you where all I've been. But first...".

He leaned over, reaching into his robes to pull out Dumbledore's white envelope. With care, the handed it over to Ron.

Ron took both the joint and the envelope, plopping the former into his mouth and inhaling as he worked the envelope open.

As his hands pulled out the enclosed photograph, Ron's eyes froze and the joint fell from his lips onto his lap. The smouldering embers slowly bit at his pants, but Ron paid them no mind. He was utterly transfixed by the image that Harry had just produced. In his eyes, Harry saw a reaction similar what his own had been when he'd first seen the picture. Intense nostalgia, followed bye sadness and longing. Their first glimpse of her in nearly three years.

He spoke after a long while, his voice hoarse, "Fuck, Hermione got hot."

Harry nodded sagely. There was wisdom in Ron's words.

Ron continued, eyes glued to the photo, "I mean, sure we all grew up but I kind of expected Hermione to- Hell, I didn't think that- Fuck man, I sure as shit wasn't expecting this, damn..."

The photo in question was of a decidedly beautiful woman, despite her injuries. Her face was bruised and her lip was bleeding. One of her eyes was turning black and puffy, as if it had been recently struck. The woman stood tall and strong though, dressed far beyond her years. A camo vest was draped over a rather tight fitting white shirt that stood an inch away from bursting open. Her black pants simultaneously hugged her impressive figure and held enough potions to drive Snape green with envy. Neon pink and baby blue tinted sunglasses, modelled in a heterochromatic fashion, covered her sparkling eyes. A defiant smile danced on her lips.

Harry saw Ron's knuckles turn white as he held the still image.

Bushy brown hair exploded all down her back. Despite her injuries, she'd clearly posed for this photograph. Her exhaustion was shown as she hunched slightly while leaning against the tree, but it was clearly the aftermath of victory.

His hand reached down to grasp the fallen joint, but his eyes never moved, "Fuck Harry this is- This means that- She's fucking alive Harry!"

Ron had practically screamed the last bit into Harry's ear, turning to stare at him with beet red eyes.

Harry swallowed, his throat felt uneasy but jut saying it somehow gave him relief, "Yeah. She's alive".

Ron looked back to the photo in his hands, gingerly holding it as if it would tear in his hands like gold leaf, "Where? And-"

Harry cut him off, "Look at the back".

Ron turned it over immediately, but Harry felt the confusion radiating from him only grow, "Snowfield, 1994? Where the fuck is Snowfield and what was Hermione doing there?"

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples as he began to explain, "I got this photo from Dumbledore, who got it from the church. Apparently some stuff went down in America last year. Snowfield is the tiny, backwater town where it all took place. The church got pretty deep into it and ended up sending down executors-"

Ron paled and nearly let the joint slip from his fingers again, "Executors! Blimey mate what're the heretic hunters doing getting mixed up in this? Just what is Hermione doing?"

Harry let his confusion show as well, he had no need to put his mask on with Ron, "It doesn't make any sense to me either, but it was an executor that found that photo".

If possible, the blood further drained from Ron's face as he eyed the photo with renewed danger, "Jesus fuck, where?"

Harry took the cigarette from Ron, "That's the tricky bit. The church apparently came late to the party. By the time they got there, the whole thing in Snowfield had been hushed up and everyone involved had left the city".

He tapped the photo in Ron's hand with his wand, letting slight distortions ripple through the image, "They found this picture in an abandoned warehouse. The place stank of heresy apparently, but it'd been cleared out pretty well. Apart from a few knickknacks and some dead thralls kept as cattle, all they found was this".

Ron watched as the ripples began to increase in frequency, his voice tinged with pain, "Hermione always did love scrapbooking... You think she still has those pictures of our first year?"

Harry pretended not to hear him, "Whoever found it probably realized that they should ask around. The picture ended up making its way through the church. Someone high up apparently owed Dumbledore a favour. Remember how Dumbledore put the word out years ago? We finally got a lead".

Ron could only mindlessly nod as the ripples began to cover any trace of the image itself, his eyes were transfixed as a shape began to emerge from the image. Long white hair came first, ruby red eyes slowly following from the surface as the photo began to change.

"Dumbledore showed me a hell of a spell," Harry continued, looking away from the picture, "It shows you the person that made the art you're looking at. Supposed to prevent forgeries by showing artist that drew the paining. Turns out it can also show the man that took the photo".

The face that remained was alien to them. Even in the light of the sun, the pale skin seemed to eschew all brightness and retreat into a ghostly white. A hungry smile revealed canines far too sharp for men, and bloody red eyes that served to only confirm his identity. His long white hair fell behind him, a prominent widow's peak turning his face oddly long.

"Harry..." Ron's voice sounded weak, "Who is this?"

Harry didn't bother looking down. He flicked what remained of the joint onto the floor, "His name's apparently Jester Karture. A dead apostle, and someone the executors have been after for a long time".


	5. Chapter Three

Please flip ur expections even further down. Look, you try making Ginny interesting alright. It isnt easy.

PS: If you dont know anything about the fate-verse, just google 'black keys fate' and click on the first link. Cmon do it u pussy

**Chapter Three: Escapism Fantasy**

He hadn't realized just how long he'd spent in the Room of Requirement with Ron. With so many things to worry about, Harry lost himself in the purple haze and had ended up spending the night with Ron. The two of them had a lot to catch up on and by the time Harry was done, they'd somehow managed to smoke all of Ron's hash. As Ron desperately rummaged through the room to find his emergency stash Harry'd decided to lean back and tried to relax.

He fell asleep almost instantly, the day having taken its toll.

Whether it was the drink, or the drugs, or just the feelings that came with coming back to Hogwarts, Harry's magic began to stir as he slept. Static noise covered his mind as he began to dream.

*Cold permeated his every inch of his being*

*The feeling on chains on his skin*

*The stakes that bound him to the ground*

*Even if he wanted to, he could not scream. This palace was their eternal prison*

*Harry looked up, longing for just a view of the Earth. Yet even this was disallowed, nothing lay above but ice cold light and the confines of the millennium prison*

*Even to see the Earth was beyond him*

*He moved, the first time in years, as he heard footsteps approaching*

Then, the vision abruptly broke off; Harry forgot the scene almost the instant it came to an end, falling back into a dark and dreamless sleep.

Hours later, his eyes slowly began to blink themselves open.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he awoke, but the blanket gently draped over him and Ron's supine form lying on the floor weren't encouraging. His head felt like someone had decided to throw in a group of eight year olds and let them use his cranium for a bouncy house. He blinked as he slowly came to his senses, a groan escaping his dry lips.

He glanced around him, eyes crinkling as the sunlight drove into his mind like a spike. Grabbing the nearest bottle, he slowly uncapped it and began to drink. He drank with patience despite his thirst, given how nauseous his stomach felt.

The thick purple smoke still hung in the room, he idly noted. His eyes probed around looking for changes. It was indeed a little warmer, but there was something else. A slick film of grease that coated everything in the room, completely invisible from sight and touch. He decided to think on it later, when he was sober.

When he'd had his fill, he rose to his feet and dusted off his clothes. Harry blinked a few times, trying to steady himself while fighting the vertigo that came with standing up too quickly. He felt terribly sick. Copious amounts of firewhisky and hash his first night back weren't the best idea after months spent sober. Stretching his arms behind himself, Harry let out a grunt as he tried to relieve the tension in his muscles.

He felt his magic come alive, beginning to worm its way through his body. His eyes began to tear up as the raw magic inside him responded to his call, dulling his headache and soothing his pains. He examined his dark skin under Ron's false sunlight, conceding last year he'd looked a lot different. But, he thought as his stomach began to settle, last year he wouldn't have been able to enjoy the benefits of being a magus. Harry spared his snoring friend a glance as he searched around for his wand. What time was it? It couldn't have been more than...

Finding it he cast the *tempus* charm, and loudly cursed uncaring of Ron asleep at his feet. Rushing to gather his things, Harry spared Ron another look before making for the door. He didn't have time to dally, it was almost 5 am. He had a half hour till Ginny had to break her fast, and Harry didn't want to blow her off on their first date since his return. As he entered the hallway and felt the door disappear behind him, he turned and took the first set of stairs that led down, towards the Hufflepuff Basement.

Strictly speaking, he thought as he upped his pace a bit, this wasn't a date. He owed Ginny an explanation just as much as he'd owed Ron one, and she'd been far more furious with him. Maybe he could grab some food from the kitchen for her to break her fast with, turn this into a real date? A portrait somewhere above him broke his train of thought.

"Ever heard of water young man? I've heard it does wonders!"

He stopped to find a laughing wall of paintings facing him. He felt a small blush rush to his face as he realized what he must have looked him. He hadn't taken a shower or changed his clothes since he'd gotten in the carriage to Hogwarts. Quickly flipping off the roaring row of paintings, he continued his walk to the Basement, rushing to leave the corridor.

His hands in his pockets, Harry did his best to keep his head down. He was supposed to have gone and seen McGonagall first thing he got back last night, and he'd rather have not been dragged into her office hungover and filthy.

As he turned a corner he came by a open window and went still as the breeze smacked him in the face, throwing his hair behind him. The window was almost as big as him, and someone obviously hadn't closed it properly after using it the night before. He stepped forward and his hand instinctively reached out and grabbed the clasp, they'd probably been coming back from a night out flying and forgotten to seal the latch. The wind was exceptionally strong this morning, and up on the fifth floor it had simply torn the unlocked window open.

Harry's hands froze as he spied the Black Lake, it's fresh water drinking the first rays of the morning sun. The beginnings of a plan forming in his mind, his eyes moved to Hogsmeade in the distance. A lightbulb appeared over his head. He let go of the window and pushed it open as wide as he could, his foot coming up to rest on the windowsill. His wand throbbed gently in his pocked as he heaved himself upward and plunged into the sky.

Harry never much cared for Hufflepuffs. Not that he had anything against them per say, he just genuinely hated going to their living quarters. For some reason, Helena Hufflepuff had thought that it'd be splendid idea to only make one connection between the main castle and the Hufflepuff Basements. Add to it that every Hufflepuff seemed to be an early riser, the trip down to the chapel would usually have taken twice as long as the walk itself at this time of day.

Fortunately, Harry had the good sense to turn himself invisible before walking into the den of the most excitable puppies in Hogwarts. The bag slung over his shoulder, full of Honeydukes' finest, wouldn't have helped with the attention. He slunk through the now crowded hallway, moving in between the gaps in traffic. He'd accidentally nudged a few people on his way, but he was too pressed for time to care.

He moved past the exit that led down to the common room, instead taking the small hallway to its very end. As he reached the wall, he knelt. His free hand tracing his wand gently across the brick, Harry drew the symbol of the cross first on the wall then repeated the drawing on himself. He finished the ceremony by whispering the Lord's Prayer.

As the last few words floated through his lip, the bricks began to churn. At the very bottom of the wall, so small that one would have easily missed it had they not been looking, a fiery cross sprang into being. Harry emotionlessly eyed the flame, before shaking his head and shoving his thumb onto the apparition. He closed his eyes as he felt the pain of the mark branding its way onto his skin. His eyes remained shut until the last of the heat subsided.

When he opened his eyes and stood from the floor, he was no longer in the Hufflepuffs' hallway. The church was silent, not a soul but Harry present.

He stood on an altar, having been transported to one end of an enormous hall. As he looked around, he realized that 'enormous' didn't really do it justice. The chapel was massive, a single room blown up to gigantic proportions. To his left and right, the room seemed to stretch on and on, but he could still see candlelit altars, relics and paintings on the distant walls. Between him and the wall, rows and rows of pews filled the empty space. As he walked towards the enormous statue of the cross at the other end of the sanctum, the holy silence felt heavy on his shoulders.

He spared a glance at the dusty pews that lined the hall. After having spent a fair bit of time in churches all over Europe, Harry could finally appreciate why St. Helena's was rightly considered a wonder of the medieval world. It was said that even in its heyday over a thousand years ago, the chapel had never once been fully filled. As more and more people filtered into the chapel, it would only grow. The walls expanding outwards, new space being rent apart and filled with holy artifacts and rows upon rows of dusty pews. All accomplished without the use of a single spacetime manipulation spell.

And then, he thought as he came to a stop, there was the real beauty of the chapel. Craning his neck upwards, Harry wondered whether newfound knowledge gained over the summer would enlighten him to some magical quirk or oddity he'd been unable to see before. His curiosity outweighed his fear, and besides he was late enough as it was. Mystic eyes burnt emerald as he stared into the void, looking desperately for any trace of magic.

Nothing. Not a peep. Shaking his head and canceling the magic going to his eyes, he appreciated the lack of a ceiling even more than before. Above him, there was nothing but black. The gigantic walls of the chapel, every inch covered with altars and candles and paintings and relics, seemed to stretch on infinitely into the sky. Slowly the human eye would lose sight of the fathomless walls, even the candles peppered throughout the miles-long walls would fade as the distance grew too great for the tiny beam of light.

Which left nothing above him but the void of the abyss, said to mimic the depth of a true devotee's faith. Harry truly was coming to appreciate the magic of the chapel more and more every moment he cared to examine it. These were no mere enchantments like the ones cast into the Great Hall or the Ravenclaw Common Room. No, it was said that in the process of building Hogwarts' spiritual center, Saint Helena had sacrificed both her hands and her right to ever again wield a wand. Harry privately thought that it had been worth it, with what was left behind being something no magus or wizard could ever hope to replicate.

He shuddered as realization came to him; above him loomed the power of a divine sacrament. Long after he was gone and long after Hogwarts had turned to dust, the chapel itself would still be here. Even if the sole entrance to this room was destroyed, the chapel would remain. Lost in a voidless dimension outside the constraints of space and time. Here, the candles would keep burning forever. Something to think about, he decided. It was possible this room would outlast mankind.

He didn't think more on it as he spirited his way to the other end of the room, a trial of vapour behind him. It would have taken him too long to walk and he always felt odd in the church alone. A series of goosebumps worked their way up on his back as he made for a small door hidden behind a series of columns. Harry took the tiny hallway all the way to the end, coming to a stop outside a series of small wooden doors. He kept his eyes on the doors as he walked, his invisibility spells unconsciously cancelling as he looked for Ginny's room.

With more than a little pride, Harry noticed that the vast majority of the doors stood blank, only a few having names carved into the wood. A private procession was no small thing, only granted to a curate who'd earned their vestments and proven their faith by recreating a miracle. Precious few had ever earned such a distinction while still at Hogwarts. He sped up a little, not wanting to keep Ginny waiting any longer.

Stopping outside of a door marked 'Ms. Weasley', Harry quickly cast a series of freshening charms, turning his breath minty and his odour pleasant. His eyes floated to the bag in his hand as he knocked on the door. He cursed himself for not taking the time to pick her up something hot to eat, or a drink at least. He'd already been in-

"Come in," Ginny's voice broke him from his thoughts.

Opening the door slowly and taking care to close it quietly behind him, Harry stepped into the cramped room. He winced slightly as he was forced to hunch down, his head nearly scraping against the ceiling. He silently marvelled at his growth spurt. Last year he'd stood comfortably in this room without any problems.

Ginny seemed to be thinking along similar lines, "What'd you do to get so tall?"

She'd barely spared him a glance, her eyes closing as she finished her sentence. As she knelt on the ground with her hands clasped, Harry winced at what he knew to be an uncompromisingly uncomfortable position. Before her, an ancient effigy depicting the crucifixion stood on an altar coated with hundreds of years of melted wax. Only six candles shone under the statue, casting the room in a pale orange glow. Harry wondered how she'd earned two candles in the brief time he'd been gone, eyeing them suspiciously.

He quickly checked the time in his head, wand and incantation unnecessary, and thanked the gods for their kindness. He took up a place behind her, sitting in a far less straining manner.

"Think you can take a break now? It's almost time anyway, and you've been at it all night," his hands digging noisily through the bag he's brought.

Ginny didn't move a muscle, "And what exactly were you up to all night?"

Occlumency raced into action before Ginny had even finished speaking, and the lie came so smoothly from his lips that he nearly believed it himself, "I stayed at the Common Room for a bit, went out for a couple of drinks with Fred and George, found Ron having his one-man party and accidentally fell asleep there if you can believe it".

Ginny let out a 'hmm', her eyes opening slightly, "You went out with Fred and George? To Hogsmeade?"

Harry waved her off, "Nah, just around the castle. Didn't want to stay in the Common Room and they helped me get out. After that it turned out George on him had a bottle and we just..."

Harry trailed off as the candles abruptly sputtered and changed colour from yellow to a blood red. The change came only for a moment, but he'd never seen anything before and it had caught his attention. Even without his eyes, he'd felt the strange magic that tore into the air. It had lasted only a second, but a rather discomforting second. Before he could voice his thoughts, Ginny's shoulders sagged and she let out a sigh of relief.

She fell back unceremoniously on her rump, craning her neck and shoulders upwards as she worked the tension out of her muscles. Her legs stretched out, bare feet scraping against the dust of the floor. Harry answered her by conjuring a large white picnic sheet to cover the space in-between them. He emptied his bag while Ginny tried to get comfortable.

She raised an eyebrow as her hands wrapped around a treacle tart, "You didn't have to get so much candy. You could've just gotten me some actual breakfast".

Harry gave her an apologetic smile, "You're not gonna believe this, but by the time I got to Hogsmeade literally nothing was open. Even Honeydukes wasn't open, but I caught old man Flume gardening outside and got him to open early for me".

Ginny handed him half a wriggling chocolate frog, "I thought you said you didn't go to Hogsmeade?"

"After I woke up in Ron's room, I realized I looked like a right mess," Harry confessed, unwrapping a peppirmint cream, "I didn't plan to fall asleep with Ron, so I was kinda pressed for time. I think I only woke up about an hour ago".

Ginny wrinkled her nose as she ate, "You shouldn't just cast charms to clean yourself Harry, taking a shower is just basic hygiene".

Harry feigned mock outrage, "I'll have you know that I did take a shower this morning, in the lake as it happens".

Ginny froze at that, cold brown eyes settling on Harry, "That's not much better. And how'd you get to Honeydukes and back in-"

Harry interrupted her with a wave of his wand, his hand immediately turning into a swirling vortex of wind. He took care to target the gust away from Ginny.

Ginny seemed transfixed at his casual display, "Did you actually fly all the way and back? In an hour?"

He ended the spell with by tapping his wand into the tornado, "Less actually. I spent more time at Honeydukes than I'd have liked to, but-"

It was Ginny who interrupted him this time, moving in close and inspecting him closely. Harry, though startled by the sudden movement, didn't move a muscle. His eyes burned Ginny's face into his mind, every detail closely etched into his memory. He noticed a bit of chocolate at the edge of her lip. His hand twitched, almost moving of its own accord.

It was Ginny who had moved first, her hand reaching behind Harry's ear and plucking a bit of seaweed that had been tangled in his hair. He cursed himself for rushing, there'd been no need to go that deep into the lake. He watched as the damp plant came out, far longer than he'd expected. The ghost of her touch lingered on his scalp.

She let it fall to the ground, "How fast can you go now?"

Harry rolled his eyes already knowing the answer wouldn't be as impressive as she was hoping, "I still can't come near outflying you on a broom. I just found a way to just sort of go up really fast and then sorta glide down to the ground. It doesn't look all that fast but-"

Ginny seemed excited, "We should go for a race again sometime, how about when I get back today?".

Harry answered her with a snort, he didn't much care for the idea, "Ginny, the spell isn't meant for going fast. It's not even meant for being used consecutively. I might as well try to beat you at your church stuff".

Harry immediately caught his mistake as Ginny stopped eating to look at him, eyebrows raised, "Church stuff?"

"Ginny you know that's not what I-"

He knew he was lost when she continued speaking, "Tell me Harry, what exactly was I doing her all night?"

Harry blinked. He'd really screwed himself. How wondered where her fledging happy mood had run to all of the sudden. He began to rack his mind for the answer, focusing on the question at hand. She had told him when he'd surprised her in the bathroom, but a lot had happened since. Something about preparing for something? A devotion?

His silence was all the answer she needed. She huffed and reached for another candy, "That's so typical of you Harry. I bet you could tell me what perfume Katie was wearing last night though".

He called upon his mind magic instinctively, his eyes narrowing as he looked directly Ginny, "Listen, Gin, first off I'm sorry I forgot. I shouldn't have, but it just slipped my mind. Ron and I had a lot to talk about and I just forgot. I'll make it up to you, okay?"

When her glare persisted, Harry continued, "And secondly, if you have a problem with Katie just say the word and I'll-"

She harrumphed loudly in between bites, "Whatever Harry. For your information by the way, I was preparing for an exorcism".

Harry rolled his eyes in response, something inside him told him he was missing something but he was eager to move on, "Praise the Lord! Are you and Snape finally going to exorcize Peeves? Let me tell you, its way past time you-"

She was still mad, but Harry could see her anger begin to recede as she bit into him, "We're not going to be exorcizing Peeves Harry. I'm saying it for the last time. I've told you before that we can't get rid of Peeves. He's not actually a poltergeist".

"So what, you and Snape running down to the dungeons to find a random spook to turn into mush?" he said as he dug into the pepper imps. Internally, he debated the idea of using legilimency on Ginny. He quickly discarded the idea.

"Not this time," Ginny's voice was quiet, her eyes turning towards the candles on the altar.

Harry noticed the tension that suddenly overtook the air, "What exactly are you two doing?"

Ginny didn't look away from the candles, but her voice came out slowly, "He wants me to 'try my hand' at the Shrieking Shack-"

Harry's eyes widened as his lips moved his brain, "The Shrieking Shack! Has he lost it? What's he thinking letting a fourth year in there?"

When Ginny didn't reply, Harry pressed her, "Gin, the shack is the real deal. Actual twisted spirits stuck, angry and hungry. You know better than me what- I mean, you can be seriously-"

Ginny silenced him with a look, an uneasy silence dawning as Harry again resisted the urge to use legilimency. He'd almost done it anyway when she turned her head, nearly losing his grip over the sensitive dial that controlled his mind magic.

Harry swallowed, looking away and towards the altar, "You haven't even given your Theology OWL yet Gin... How'd you get those two new candles by the way? You've only been back a week".

Harry saw Ginny suppress a strange smirk, "You're not the only one that got better this summer Harry".

Her hands went up to her coif, unraveling the knot and letting her long hair loose. She let her hat drop to the ground along with her hair, her fingers going to the back of her neck, digging up and through her scalp. Harry watched in fascination as she pulled her hands back, t-shaped pieces of red wood clutched in between her clawed fingers. Harry's eyes zeroed in on how nimbly she manipulated the three stubs of wood in each hand. His heartbeat doubled as he saw her take a familiar position. She'd never done the dance with this many keys.

"Those two candles are from mastery over the Internment Rite and the Mummification Rite".

Immense pride blossomed in his chest as Ginny stood, meter long blades suddenly emerging from the handles as she held them in a fan formation. He couldn't move his eyes even if he'd wanted to, her mastery of the six black keys completely enthralling him. She began the dance quickly, blades striking out with perfect precision. One went below Harry's chin, cutting a few stray hairs from his beard scruff. Another two went so close by Harry's head simultaneously that his ears rung for a while after.

The dance went on, blades embedding themselves all over the room, disappearing the moment they cleaved through the ancient stone. Her feet were a blur, moving in circles so fast that the average wizard would only see afterimages. Yet, at no point did Ginny ever hold less than three keys to hand. Her body moved in perfect step with her actions, blades flying so fast and being replaced with such grace that Harry had to activate his mystic eyes to keep up. In doing so his awe increased as his eyes realized that, apart from the basic magic needed to materialize the blades, Ginny had cast no reinforcement charms or temporal jinx. Her speed was entirely her own.

But, even as pride and joy dominated his senses, a pit of worry began to grow in his stomach. The events of 1992 floated over his mind like a dark haze as he began to comprehend what he was seeing. No fourteen year old girl should have been able to do this, regardless of the extent of her faith or how hard she trained. Even the greatest warriors of the church could ever hope to wield four black keys to a hand, and only the best could ever preform the dance with eight blades. An invulnerable journal and lonely red eyes danced in the back of his mind, a chill slithering down his spine as the dance went on.

Harry was starving by the time lunch rolled around. His head aching from the talking-to he'd gotten from McGonagall before she'd let him have his time table.

He'd been so hungry that he'd almost forgotten to grab Ron from the Room of Requirement. While Harry had been suffering through playing catch-up in class with no sleep, Ron had woken to smoke the rest of his stash and then promptly fell back to sleep. Harry didn't have the energy to lecture him when he found him, instead just being thankful that Ron's stomach brought him to lunch without argument. He didn't much feel like wasting his break before Defence with the Slytherins.

As Ron dug into a massive pie right next to him, Harry appraised his friend's physique. This was the first time he'd ever suspected that he might have weighed more than his friend. While it was difficult to tell under the robes the were both wearing, Harry couldn't help but notice the gaunt and hollow contour in Ron's face.

"Are you gonna eat that mate?"

"Hands off, just grab your own," Harry brusquely replied. Ron was still Ron, and that thought alone gave him a small measure of relief.

Harry returned to his meal, pausing between bites to take in the scene of the Great Hall at lunch. It was his first meal back at Hogwarts, and the castle was bursting with activity. In truth, he couldn't remember the hall looking more full. As he eyed a group of slavic looking first years down the table, he wondered how true the rumours were of massive increases in Central European enrolment.

Given the massive chatter, he was thankful that he had the foresight to cast excessively powerful notice-me-not charms on himself and Ron. It also spared him from having to exchange smalltalk and greetings with all the familiar faces in the hall. He eyed Dean eating alone near the very back of the hall. Some people didn't need notice-me-not charms to eat undisturbed, he thought bitterly.

He spied a far more interesting figure than Dean walk into the hall and nudged at Ron, "Look who decided to come to lunch".

Ron spared only the minimum amount of energy needed to angle his eyes towards the entrance, and then returned to his food. He thought his friend's lack of reaction strange, but returned his attention to the newcomer as they headed for the Slytherin table.

Harry's mystic eyes came alive as he zeroed in on Draco Malfoy from across the hall. His control was far more refined now, a series of tiny throbs pulsating under his eyes. It felt as if Draco sat directly opposite him, skin stripped away and magic exposed. If he didn't have the notice-me-not charms on, and somehow made eye contact with Draco, he'd have been able to use legilimency as well. He marvelled at how little the interference from the crowd mattered now.

His eyes studied Malfoy up and down, but he didn't need magic to see something was off. His normally pristine slicked back hair looked as if he'd put barely any product in it. His eyes were puffy, and he walked with a limp in his step. His magic felt oddly constrained as well, a little too constrained. The coiled and tense feeling Malfoy's magic gave Harry was intimately familiar. It had been the state of his own magic not too long ago.

It was the magic of someone who'd begun to bring their mind in tune with their magic. Someone who'd begun the study of occlumency.

Ron elbowed him in the stomach, the pain cutting off the magic to his eyes as Harry struggled not to slip from his seat. He eyed Ron with annoyance, "Jesus Ron what's the deal?"

Ron's eyes remained on his food, "Why're you eyeing Draco up and down like that eh? Do I need to tell Ginny she has competition?"

"Something's off with Malfoy," Harry replied quietly, his eyes returning to the man in question.

That seemed to draw Ron away from his food, and he leaned back and chanced a glance himself, "Looks like a git. Don't see much out-"

Harry interrupted him, "I forgot to tell you, mate. Turns out Malfoy took your invite to my welcome thing last night".

Ron's head turned sharply to Harry, "Wait, what?"

Harry nodded, "I got lucky. Spotted him pretty much by accident. He'd hidden himself pretty well. You know Lee's peeping spot under the stairs? Under a whole book a charms I'd wager".

Ron seemed to mull Harry's words over, his eyes shrinking back down to his food. Harry took the moment to voice his thoughts, "He could've been spying for his dad, I guess. I don't know why he took the risk of sneaking into Gryffindor Tower, he could've just waited to see me in class today".

Ron didn't seem to hear him, his hand coming up to cup his chin, "So that's what..."

Ron seemed to snap out of his daze and turned towards Harry, "I had a weird dream, literally a few hours before we hung out last night. Shit, it makes a lot of sense now".

As Ron seemed to be on the verge of falling back into his thoughts, Harry urged him to continue.

"So, it was the Gryffindor Common Room, but I wasn't actually there. You remember that time my dad brought over that weird muggle Teller Mission thing?"

Harry deadpanned, "Its called a television, but yeah".

Ron nodded, "Yeah, it was like I was sitting in my Room, but like it was night time for some reason, and I was watching the common room on the thing? Like the room was inside the box. There were a bunch of dancing lions, and a lot of fire. It didn't make much sense. I remember though, watching a real slimy snake going through the crowd. You were there too mate, with all the dancing lions. Center of attention with a bunch of people dancing over you. The snake got all over you guys too".

Harry tried to understand the dream, and pressed for more information, "Anything else? We already know Malfoy was in the Room. Do you remember-"

Ron cut him off, "Yeah, yeah give me a minute. I remember everyone getting real into it. All the lions going crazy around you. Eventually, I don't know, I think you started juggling the lions? Everyone was cheering, or something like that. Then right in the thick of it, the snake went up your leg and bit your right in the neck. The whole thing fell down, like you'd just dropped the whole stage or something. That's when it all went black and..."

He could feel Ron's reluctance to continue. He knew the terrible toll Ron paid for his visions, and the enormous strain it placed on his mind, "That's enough Ron, you don't have to go on. That's more than enough actually".

Ron shook his head, "That's all I got anyway, nothing else related. But don't worry cause my head isn't hurting or anything".

He felt the urge to use legilimency to confirm Ron's words and ruthlessly quashed it. He had grown far, far too comfortable with liberally employing his mind magic over the last few months. He needed to calm down and return to civilized life. Even if most wizards weren't aware of the mental arts, the spells were still a crime to cast without active consent. On the off chance that anyone ever detected an intrusion, he'd be sorely fucked.

Trying to shift his mind back to the matter at hand, Harry added, "I got something for you as well. Our pretty lady's been dabbling in a bit of mind magic apparently".

Ron paled as he ingested Harry's words, sharply turning to stare at Malfoy, "What? You can't be serious, Malfoy and legilimency? Who's teaching him? How's he even-"

Harry cut him off, "I'll give it a closer look in class, but yeah, it looks like it. He's no pro, so you should realize pretty quick if he tries using legilimency on you. Just remember what I taught you and you'll be fine".

Ron didn't seem to like Harry's answer very much, "That's not the point Harry. Malfoy going around poking in people's heads is just bound to end badly. Besides, it's not like you just pick up legilimency in the library".

Harry nodded, but countered quickly, "Come on, you think Lucius Malfoy gives two shits about keeping heretical magic in his house? He might really just have found a book and decided to play at being a magus?"

Ron conceded the point, but turned his head to Harry inquisitively, "Speaking off, how'd you even know that he'd started studying legilimency?"

Harry shrugged, not wanted to explain the truth to Ron, and easily lied, "Just a feeling. A good legilimens can spot someone who just started learning".

As Ron bought his explanation, Harry had a question of his own he'd been mulling over, "By the way, if everyone in the common room was a lion in your dream then how'd you know that the one that got bit while juggling was me?"

Ron blinked, seemingly surprised by the question, "I never said you were a lion as well mate. You were you, shirtless with some weird skirt on. Personally I'm still tryna forget that bit".

Harry didn't understand the piercing look Ron sent his way, instead just nodding as they both returned to their food. They'd follow up on their lead in their next class. He still had to meet the new Defence Professor.

Harry idly tapped his fingers on the desk; bored and waiting for their Professor, a Madam Umbridge, to arrive. He wasn't sure when Ron had managed to ditch him, but he suspected it had been around the time that Katie had had bumped into them on their way to class.

"...but she didn't even let Fred pull out his wand and just decided to-"

Harry wondered if she'd realize that he'd stopped listening to her before the Professor arrived. Katie sure did love to hear herself talk. His legilimency reached out on its own, plucking the memory Katie was describing in case he needed to recall it later. A frown came over his face as he internalized her thoughts. Just what was the Interior Ministry thinking, sending someone like Umbridge to Hogwarts at a time like this?

Ron and Katie had given him a pretty good idea of what they were dealing with, and Harry didn't much care for the picture they'd painted. Both he and Dumbledore had hoped to avoid such a response from the Ministry after the Triwizard Tournament, but the Unspeakables had Fudge wrapped around their finger. Was she their doing? A ploy against Dumbledore? Or had they truly allied with-

The doors burst open as their portly Professor speed-walked into the room with a song, "I'm so sorry for the delay class!"

She waddled over to the desk, a stack of books and papers levitating behind her. A dazzling array of white and grey pigeons followed her into the room, perching on posts embedded into the roof. Her eyes briefly lingered on Harry, before settling on the class as a whole, "I'm afraid my meeting with the Headmaster ran a little long, but not to fret we'll jump right in!"

As she directed the class to open their books, Harry slipped on his mask and began to closely examine their Professor. She had an interesting choice for familiars, he noticed as he eyed the pigeons settling above. Umbridge was pulling out lecture notes as the chalk behind her began to act as a stenographer, drawing figures and highlighting incantations. Harry moved along with the rest of the class. Thankfully, Dumbledore had bought all his supplies for him while he'd been absent from England. He furrowed his brow as he read along with the rest of the class.

After a while, his attention turned back to Umbridge as she began to demonstrate the wand movement to the Stupefying Charm. As his heartbeat began to increase, his mind began to put the pieces of information together. Her presence at Hogwarts was extremely suggestive, several motives making themselves clear as he looked underneath the underneath. His eyes remained intently on Umbridge, and he made to meet her gaze as often as he could. He felt the magic in his blood rush through his veins, a bead of sweat trailing down his forehead.

It was immensely risky to use legilimency on a Professor. Downright unheard of, something that'd get you expelled faster than you could say 'assault with a magical weapon'. Still, this was a unique opportunity. He swallowed, seriously considering reaping through her mind to learn the truth he was sure lay just beyond his awareness. It was beyond obvious that Umbridge had come directly as a representative of the Interior Ministry. Any mage worth their salt would have brought their mind in tune with their magic long ago, and would have easily detected the intrusion. Although...

He noticed her wand lean a little to the left as she demonstrated the wand movement for the fifth time. Her magic oozing slowly through her arm. Without his mystic eyes he lacked the clarity to properly gauge her. Still, she certainly wasn't affiliated with the Unspeakables. Nothing about her hinted at anything related to the Department of Mysteries, and the DoM spooks always had a certain dangerous air around them. Then again, he wasn't exactly drawing from a large sample size.

Even more so, he thought as his eyes narrowed, it wouldn't be entirely atypical of the DoM to send an utterly perfect actress to the front either. There were ways to completely alter one's magic, ways to hide from even the most powerful mystic eyes in England. Nonetheless, he couldn't conclusively decide on anything. One bit of information eluded him, throwing off his analysis entirely.

What did the DoM or the political elite, the two pillars of the Interior Ministry, gain from devastating the defence capabilities of Hogwarts students?

She was so utterly incompetent that it didn't make any sense, Harry realized as he continued to watch her. He didn't need legilimency or mystic eyes to see that. Her body spoke of a desk job, and he could feel her slothful magic all knotted up in her chest. After encountering a great many powerful magi at a young age, he personally thought that his standards may have been a bit excessive, but still!

Hell, even Malfoy had shown a greater understanding of his magic! A startling epiphany hit him in his reverie. Umbridge wasn't just some average pencil pusher who'd been sent to Hogwarts. She wasn't some desk jockey that somehow stumbled into one of the most important educational posts in Britain. Nothing about her at all hinted at an average disposition.

No... She had been intentionally calculated as the worst possible person for the job.

Before he could think anymore on his realization, Umbridge's focus came on him. He knew before she did, her untrained unconscious mind betraying her intentions. He willed himself back into the world, paying close attention to his Professor as she took a pause.

"Now then class," she said turning towards them, "Let's see who among us was listening".

Her gaze landed squarely on Harry, "Mr. Potter, it's nice to see that you've finally arrived. I trust you're caught up on the work you missed?"

Harry nodded, keeping his reply short, "Yes Professor".

Umbridge seemed pleased by his answer, "Then perhaps you could tell me about the Five Principles of Formal Thaumaturgy?"

Harry blinked, not expecting a question so far removed from what he actually knew, "I'm afraid I don't know Professor".

Umbridge tutted, "A warning then, Mr. Potter. I abhor liars. The next time you tell a lie, it'll be detention".

As murmurs broke out throughout the classroom, Katie shuffling uncomfortably next to him, Harry did his level best to stop from bursting out into laughter. It was comical, he noted, that Umbridge had decided to come right to him. Her promise of a detention was an invitation he couldn't pass up. Deep inside him, the itch to blast into Umbridge's toad-like, slitted brown eyes grew.

Either he wasn't being as subtle as he'd hoped, or Katie was more perceptive than he'd realized, but just as he was about to launch his legilimency probe Katie's hand came down on his under the desk. She squeezed it tightly, her eyes quickly glancing over in warning. Harry noted the worry in her eyes, and looked away from Umbridge.

His Professor hadn't seemed to have noticed the exchange, her pouchy eyes swinging in step with her mousy brown hair. She'd turned back to the board and had begun lecturing on about the subject matter. The entire episode seemed forgotten as the class quietly returned to making their notes. His heart thumping loudly in his chest, Harry came to the slow realization of what he'd almost done. As he continued to write, he noticed the quiet in the air around him. Even in Professor McGonagall's class students rarely made such little chatter. Even Parvati and Lavender, two seats behind him, were silent.

He longed to activate his mystic eyes as he reassessed Umbridge. Katie's reaction and the ensuing silence led him to think that he'd misjudged the newest bearer of the Defence Curse.

Even so, Harry grinned as he loudly cleared his throat, a detention with Umbridge sounded like a one-way ticket to pillaging her mind.

"Professor, I have a question..."

"You should have seen Umbridge's face! Her head puffed up like one of her pigeons and I swear I saw her eyes turn red when Harry kept talking," Katie continued.

The hearth crackled softly in the background as Katie told her tale around the fire. Seamus and Demelza listened intently, while a few feet away Harry went through a stack of parchment with Fred and George.

As Demelza doubled over in laughter, Harry spoke with a considering look on his face as he appraised the paper in his hands, "Guys, this is some next level stuff..."

"What? Why'd it fall right on her head then?"

Fred and George seemed pleased by his conclusion, "Did we or did we not just deliver you every knut's value Harry?"

Seamus let out a shriek in the background, "No! Tell me he didn't say that out loud!"

Harry looked up and appraised the twins, he'd always known they were clever but (along with everyone else) he'd clearly misjudged them, "Yeah but... I mean, I sure as hell wasn't expecting all this".

"We went wild this summer Harry. All that Triwizard money let us get whatever and go wherever," George replied.

Harry could truly appreciate the value of his money. Fred and George had clearly never had such finances to play with, half of their products were downright genius and the other were so clever that the Interior Ministry would have to design a dozen new laws the moment they went to market. He leafed through the multitude of papers, carefully eyeing the corresponding prototypes in the chest.

A small vial of gel attracted his senses, his fingers softly brushing over it and Harry wondered just what it was. It had a familiar feel to it, and he searched for the matching design sheet.

Harry whistled as he pulled out the particularly nasty blueprint, he'd never even imagined that it was possible to stabilize a mixture of Erumpent horn fluid and Dragon's blood. He blinked as he realized exactly what the potent amalgamation was capable off. If someone had the idea to let one of those loose, there'd be hell to pay. Besides, they couldn't just use restricted materials like this.

"You guys better keep this one away from Snape. These are both Class-B Tradeable Materials. Fucking brilliant though," he said, his admiration still leaking through.

George didn't seem to mind his comment, but a strange gleam came over Fred's eyes. He felt his legilimency purr in the background, something was off.

Before they could reply, Katie called out to him, "Hey Harry, when's your detention?"

His mind magic faded back into his body as he turned towards Katie, "This weekend if you can believe it. Dumbridge took my Friday".

His sardonic tone elicited a giggle, but before she could reply Fred butted in, "Listen Harry, we got a couple more things to show you in our room? Some of the bigger prototypes we couldn't bring down from the trunk".

Harry was a little surprised by how antsy Fred was being, but he nodded all the same. As he stood up and dusted off his robes, waiting for Fred and George to pack up their things, tendrils worked their way from his mind into George's. He noticed George's eyes glaze over as he packed his belongings, Harry doubted that George had even felt a thing. Images began to flood his mind, a secret workshop concealed under the bed, of passages scribbled in the margins of old books, of oaths made to take certain things to the grave.

The legilimency probe broke as George turned away from him, moving towards the dorms with Fred. Harry followed them in a bit of a daze, trying to understand what he just saw. As the information roiled and digested in his mind, a sense of worry came over him. The twins were certainly clever, but it didn't take a genius to realize that they were wholly unaware of the existence of mind magic. They wore their secrets on their faces wherever they went, even someone like Malfoy could..

As they entered the empty dormitory, George waited as Harry came in and locked the door behind them. Harry raised an eyebrow at the secrecy, while Fred pulled out a massive trunk from under one of their beds. The two of them knelt together and touched their wands to the trunk, and Harry watched with his mystic eyes alight as the many protections on the trunk came undone. It was a decent job, Harry appraised, but the twins had been right to move their laboratory.

The trunk flew open with a loud think, the lid smashing loudly on the stone below. Without missing a beat, Fred grabbed the edge and hoisted himself through the trunk and into the expanded space below. George motioned for Harry to follow before jumping in himself.

As Harry landed in the small twenty by twenty wooden room, he took stock of just how different it looked. There were large squares of clean space on the dusty floor, where the twin's machinery and supplies had rested till not too long ago. More than that, there was a stench in the air and Harry's brow furrowed as he stood. His nose caught the familiar scent immediately, but he dared not let it show on his face.

He tensed as his eyes wandered lazily around the small space, settling on Fred and George. His occlumency sped to the surface, masking his face as he tried not to notice the heavy stink of heresy in the air.

Fred and George seemed to be unaware of it as they took up position leaning against the wall. George began to go through the bag he'd brought with his, his hand moving deep into the enhanced space as he grappled for something near the bottom.

Fred started talking while George cursed, unable to find what he was looking for, "See Harry, we didn't hold back on the toys. Mum didn't mind us leaving over the summer for work, so we decided to really try and go past the joke shop idea. Tried to get you something useful for your galleons".

"Aha!" George interrupted, pulling out a small back box. Long and narrow, it looked similar to the boxes Ollivander kept his wands in.

"We didn't just make fun things we could take to market, we worked on some of our more interesting ideas as well. Some stuff we'd never show anyone else," George opened the box and motioned for Harry to take the scrolls within. He eyed the half dozen rolls of paper within with interest.

Harry reached out and grabbed one of them at random, George filling the silence as Harry began to read, "This is just the stuff we had time to finish. We didn't really want to test this stuff out at the house and uh, they didn't much care for us down in Knockturn Alley so we didn't get a chance to really work on all of our ideas and-"

"Holy fuck," Harry whispered, mystic eyes coming alive and interrupting George as Harry burnt the image into his mind.

Fred pitched in, "These are the only copies. Everything we didn't finish we burnt to the ground. Scattered the ashes even. Tried to cover our tracks best we could and all"

Harry's eyes moved back to Fred. He struggled not to let his thoughts show on his face, his occlumency shaking wildly under the strain. He'd nearly screamed and flung the parchment at them. With the new information seeping into his mind, his eyes began to see the twins more clearly. They stung as Harry pushed his magic circuits to his limits, emerald light oozing into the room.

Before either of the twins could react to the sudden burst of blinding green light from Harry's eyes, he saw it. Ghostly afterimages clung to their robes, the permanent stains of dark magic washed over and over again to no avail.

The link blinked out as soon as it had come, but that didn't stop George from angrily rubbing his eyes and voicing his thoughts, "Blimey mate whats the for? Keep those pretty eyes up here eh?"

"Sorry," Harry's voice was soft and quiet, and it caught the twins attention.

"Harry mate-" Fred began.

"Shit guys," Harry interrupted him by bringing his free hand to his forehead, "This is some crazy shit. This can't be real. You couldn't have- I mean, how'd you even come up with this. If this actually works..."

Fred relaxed at his answer, while George replied for them both, "We tested some six prototypes before we decided it was good enough. Mostly just didn't want the risk that came with working on it. This was some idea we had when we were kids. Mum used to make us go down to the garden and chuck gnomes with Bill and Perce. Had a lot of fun, but a chore's a chore so..."

Fred continued, "We never paid much attention to the gnomes themselves. One day though, I remember we were chasing this big fella. Hell, it was nearly as big as you when you were a firstie. George jumped and managed to grab it's leg, but it didn't come down..."

"Instead, the fucker kicks me as hard as he can in the face. But instead of breaking a tooth or throwing me back, the bastard kicks me so hard I fly right into Fred and we both go flying right *through* the barn wall," George picked up, rubbing his jaw nostalgically.

Fred jumped in quickly, "And here's the thing Harry, we blew a hole some ten feet wide in the wall. That fucker must've kicked us fifty feet at least. You know how come you haven't hard this story from our mum?"

Harry shook his head, his legilimency reaching out and glancing at their surface thoughts. He winced as he saw the image of the smashed barn, it really had been pretty bad.

George looked him right in the eye, "We didn't have a mark on us mate. He kicked me right in the face with a big flash of light and threw us all the way. The wall was smashed open but when dad came running we didn't have so much as a single splinter. What does that sound like to you eh?"

Harry's eyes widened as he took the memory from George's eyes, "Prana Burst".

His voice was hushed but Fred heard him and beamed, "Got it in one! That right there Harry is the world's first artificial way of casting a..."

Harry began to violently shake his head as he read further down, "This can't be done. It's not possible- Jesus Christ, how many gnomes did you use?"

His surprise was well founded. The Prana Burst was a powerful technique, one of the marks of a true magus. The fact that gnomes had the potential to replicate a weak version of the spell didn't surprise him, they were nature spirits after all. What shocked him, and would certainly have shocked the entirety of the Wizarding World, were the designs he held in his hand. If such items could be mass produced, the potential fallout was enormous.

The smile faltered for a moment on George's face, "We got it to work on the third try, and after that just kept trying to make it more efficient to make. We didn't get very far on that front".

Harry looked them right in the eyes, "I hope you guys didn't bring any of these prototypes to-"

Fred cut him off with a sarcastic 'humph', "Yeah right, like we want Filch to be the one to put us in Azkaban".

George nodded along, thought Harry sensed his hesitation, "Like I told you, we got rid of everything. Burnt it to the ground. Everything except..."

As he gestured to the box, Harry felt the need to reprimand them for their carelessness, "Fuck guys, you shouldn't even have brought these with you? What were you thinking? Don't take these out anywhere except this room and I sure as hell hope you didn't leave this shit lying around at home where-"

Fred seemed struck by his tone, "The fuck Harry? We're not fucking stupid. What's wrong with just bringing the notes along? We brought them for you anyway".

Harry would have winced at the anger in Fred's voice, had he himself not been furious with him. He chanced a legilimency probe and grew unsettled by what he saw, the twins were playing with a fire they didn't understand.

Fred had his arms folded over his chest, and George seemed to be protectively hugging the black box into his armpit. Harry's eyes turned back to the parchment.

"Guys, you're not getting it. This isn't just some 'maybe going around the Blasphemy Law stuff' for fucks sake. I mean, are we fucking seeing the same the thing here?" he paused before reading verbatim, "*Blood and bone to the origin. Fire and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Judas- * Judas? Fucking Judas and you're asking me why you shouldn't have bought this to Hogwarts? How did you guys even get your hands on a Gospel of Judas?"

At that, a small smile came to Fred's face, "Well, remember how we said we poked around in Knockturn Alley?"

George scratched at his chin, a guilty look covering his eyes, "Really, it was just lying in the discount bin at Borgin and Burkes..."

Harry blinked rapidly at the twins, he felt lightheaded. Every Weasley he'd met since he'd come back had been giving him trouble, but this was really taking the cake. The twins were smart and clever, but the really just seemed incapable of fucking getting it.

Harry grit his teeth as he tried to keep himself calm, "Guys, it doesn't matter where you got it. The point is that you two ended up writing a goddamn *heretical sermon*! Whether you fucking meant to or not isn't the point either, the point is that you brought it to Hogwarts!"

He couldn't have stopped his legilimency from reaching out and oozing into their minds if he'd tried. His anger shrunk back as he saw that they'd finally begun to realize their mistake. Still, that didn't fix the problem. And it certainly did help much if the damage had already been done.

"Wait, mate that's not a sermon. It's a ritual spell that, sure might be a bit on the... uh, the road less taken, but it's not like the notes alone are dangerous," George protested. Fred didn't seem to hear him.

Harry shook his head, rolling up the scroll, "You guys got it wrong. This thing's got apostasy all over it, fuck it's practically leaking. You guys didn't even bother to write it in cipher... Guys, listen to me. If a priest saw this, fuck if Snape saw this..."

Fred had turned as white as a sheet. He quickly turned to George, "Bloody hell George I fucking told you that-"

George shushed him with a look, and they turned to Harry together, "Listen mate, we didn't know that- We didn't mean to go around breaking laws and getting into all this, we were just tryna be useful".

Harry felt the truth in their words, "Listen, these are the only copies right? And this is all the stuff you guys worked on that classifies as..."

Fred nodded quickly, handing the box over to Harry for inspection, "That's everything, and its not like we just left it lying around the house or anything. We never even took any of it to the Burrow after people kept dropping by for visits. Realized it wasn't safe and-"

Harry's interest piqued as looked through the box of scrolls, "Wait, who kept coming by the Burrow?"

He felt an intense spike of surprise from both twins as she shared a glance, George being the one to answer, "Didn't Ginny tell you? Or Ron?"

Harry shook his head, neither of them had spoken about anyone visiting the Burrow.

George continued, "Start of the summer. After you left for New York. A couple of Dumbledore's boys were waiting for us when we got back from the station. They had tea with mum and Ron. Rest of us weren't invited. Never found out what that was about, Mum said it was Ron's business and we didn't want to push. Probably had something to do with his... y'know".

His blood ran cold. Harry's legilimency didn't hold back, scraping rudely into George's mind to pluck every detail of the encounter. He grew even more worried as he realized the implications of Ron's express redaction. He'd been so lost in the memory that he almost didn't hear Fred pipe up. He missed George's slight wince.

"Then about a month later Snape showed up at the house. That was when we realized that we should probably have-"

Harry interrupted them, taking a moment to fully process Snape's name, "Hold up, what was Snape doing at the Burrow?"

Dread began to fill him as he remembered just what he was holding, he chanced a look into Fred's eyes, worry radiating off him. The twins were good natured wizards, but to someone like Snape they were an open book. And unlike him, Snape wasn't shy with his legilimency. If the twins had run into him...

George alleviated his distress, "We didn't catch him ourselves. We were out of the house when he'd dropped by. He'd brought Father Aylesbury with him, you remember the old kook?"

Harry furrowed his brow in thought. He'd only met the priest of the burrow's little seminary once. As George's memories of the man filtered into his mind, Harry wrote him off as a harmless old fool. Still, there was only one reason Snape would've come to the burrow with a priest to boot.

"What did they want with Ginny?" Harry asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

Fred answered with a shrug, "Mum didn't really fill us in. She said it was some big scholarship that only comes around once in a while. Apparently Snape wanted to recommend Ginny and needed Mum and Father Aylesbury to sign on. Didn't Ron or Ginny mention anything to you?"

Harry shook his head, trying to analyze the information he'd just learned. Something nagged at him though, "Was Ron there when Snape came by?"

George nodded his head, "He was the one that filled us in when we got back. Ginny was over the moon though. You should've seen her, Ron said she'd nearly broken the windows with how much noise she was making. He didn't mention anything?"

Fred decided to swing the topic back to the matter at hand, "Anyways, the point was that we didn't leave the stuff around the house. Kept it away from Mum, Ginny and Ron. Didn't fuck around with this shit at all Harry. We were careful".

Harry felt strangely numb as he took in the information. With a start, he realized that his occlumency was already active, filing away the memories and emotions for later. There were still things to do before he could focus.

He nodded, looking George in the eye, "Alright mate, I trust you".

Relief immediately exploded in the both of them. But before he could move on, he needed to know something, "Listen, you guys gave your Potions NEWT last year right?"

Their relief turning to confusion, George furrowed his brow before answering, "Yeah, how come you're asking?"

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and shook his head. The lie came easily because it was partly, "Just make sure you stay away from Snape. He might still sense leftover traces".

As Fred nodded and George grabbed his bag, then moment paused in the air and Harry considered telling them about legilimency. They'd avoid Snape anyways without the knowledge but it was a big world out there. Then, the moment passed and he quickly dismissed the idea. The Third Cardinal Rule of the Magus hung heavy in his mind, and it worked in his favour really.

The fewer people that knew of mind magic, the more powerful it was.

He put the Prana Burst heresy back into the box with the others, pushing down the lid and sealing it with a burst of magic. With a quick wave of his wand, he shrunk the box down till it fit in the palm of his hand.

"Listen, you guys said you brought these for me right? And these are the only copies?" Harry asked, clearly hinting at where he was going.

George got his meaning immediately, "Of course mate, take them. No complaints here".

Fred merrily chimed in, "We're happy to be rid of them, and besides, those are the only copies".

Harry blinked, his breath hitching in his throat as legilimency confirmed the lie.

His breath was steady as they moved to ascend from the foul smelling trunk, every step only increasing his worry. It felt as if someone had lain a terrible curse on the Weasley family. Arthur Weasley's sacrifice felt heavy on his shoulders.


	6. Chapter Four

I know nobody liked it when i tried to write dialogue so heres a whole half chapter without a single person talking. Idk if its better or worse tbh.

**Chapter Four: Bad Luck**

Harry was not having a good time wandering the halls of Hogwarts.

He'd left the Common Room almost immediately after his conversation with Fred and George, not wanting to risk keeping the profane box on his person any longer than necessary. The troubles occupying his mind didn't lighten as he made his way into the depths of the castle. He was heading to the oldest standing parts of the building, the few remaining stone structures that had escaped the Great Fire of 1450 due to their location deep underground.

He slipped through a gaggle of third years unnoticed, his magic shielding him from their eyes as they made their way back from class. He watched them go, pausing in his stride for a moment. As they chattered happily down the hallowed halls of Hogwarts Castle, Harry felt a strange desperation come over him. He resumed his walk, not wanting to waste anymore time.

He fled into his mind, letting his unconscious self take over as they made their way towards the Old Vaults. He analyzed the dearth of information he had come into. One unfortunate event was something to be expected, two a coincidence, and three just back luck. Still, he'd been immersed in magic too long to merely discard the possibility. Something indeed was off.

His hands moved idly, tracing little shapes in the air as he stalked the halls invisible. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Was it really possible that someone had lain a curse on the Weasleys? He shook his head at the ridiculousness of the thought. Arthur Weasley had been a good man, but not a particularly important man. He'd given his life in Dumbledore's service, and his sacrifice had definitely made him some serious posthumous enemies...

But still, it didn't make a bit of sense. Harry racked his brain for anything he might have missed; a foreign magic sticking to them, any discrepancies in their behaviour, anything that might have helped him understand. A curse that effected the entire family by moving the strings of fate, but remained completely undetectable. There were certain potions that had a similar effect, notably the Felix Felicis that Slughorn had been addicted to, but any spells or foreign magic should have clearly stood out.

Was it possible it was all just the world's misfortune? His fist clenched around his wand as he tapped a seemingly random part of the hallway. As a small hole began to grow near the bottom, Harry bent down on his hands and squeezed into the newly made tunnel. He remembered it being a more comfortable fit last hear, but he easily squeezed in regardless. As he began crawl, he once more thought of the possibility that there was really nothing behind it all.

His breath felt hot as he exhaled, he hoped that wasn't the case. Last year had been a living nightmare. At the very end, when it had come down to it, Harry had trudged through a river of blood to put a stop to the Resurrection. The dark forces had been sent scattering, the ritual they'd nurtured for so long coming to a bitter end. He'd bought them years, decades even maybe, to prepare.

He sped up as the saw a pinprick of light in the distance, not wanting to spend a moment longer in the claustrophobic tunnel. This year was supposed to have given him time to step back and take a breather. Get out of the Hogwarts bubble and explore. Find out the truth about what had really happened that fateful night, start to rely on himself and travel, track down some old leads... He really hoped that it wouldn't end as 'Harry Potter & the Curse of the Weasleys'.

He emerged out of the other end after what felt like an eternity. Dusting himself off, he wondered whether the journey all the way down here had been worth it. He eyed the pipe he'd just crawled through with distaste. According to Fred and George, centuries ago it had once served as a latrine drain. Now it was the only way to get down to the charred and broken labyrinth that had once served as the entrance to Hogwarts' dungeons. All the other passages leading down here had either collapsed or been purposefully blocked off.

He gently ran his thumb over the near invisible etching of a snake that hung directly above the pipe. He snorted, latrine pipe his ass, there was a reason no magic was possible in or around the confines of the tunnel. A reason that no headmaster had ever been able to seal the hole. The founders had erred greatly when they'd left the plumbing entirely to Salazar. Only a Slytherin could have turned a punishment into a triumph.

The maze wasn't nearly as daunting as it looked, Harry thought as he made his way through. The first time he'd been down here, digging through the ruins with Ron and Hermione for the mythical Chamber of Secrets, he'd nearly soiled his pants. Now he knew that all one had to do to avoid getting lost was keep their hand firmly on the left wall as they entered. There were only two real remaining exits from the maze, and one led under the Black lake.

He had debated just destroying the box of dark sorceries in his pocket. He hadn't bothered with the rest of the scrolls, but if they were anything like the rest of what Fred and George had shown him, he was better off without them. He resisted the urge to take a peak at the unseen material, consoling himself that as someone well down the path of becoming a magus, magical instruments of this nature could only work against him.

He paused his ramblings as he came to what appeared to be a dead end. Harry blinked, surprised by the tension in the air. His mystic eyes came alive as a stray thought crossed his mind.

He nearly cursed out loud. All around him the leylines of magic burned, coalescing neatly into a spiral at the centre of the offending wall. Harry's head darted around as he took in the scene before him. His eyes had not nearly been this strong the last time he'd been down here, but he'd not expected anything close to this world of difference. Where before there had only been slight trails and ghostly afterimages, there now lay white-hot burning lines of fire that permeated the stone. As he brought his face closer to one of the burning streaks, he noticed the small black lettering running throughout each line.

Harry moved away slowly from the wall, letting the magic fade from his eyes. His hands shook as he realized it had not been his mystic eyes that had let him see the trails in the first place. No, these signs had been lain specifically for those with Slytherin's own blood. The man's egomania never failed to amaze him. This deep below the castle, Harry knew he had found the focal point of Slytherin's magic, etched deep underground. He turned to the invisible lines that ran down the hallway unseen and into the castle.

Down here they were concentrated and easy to see, the ancient halls making the old magic more potent, but Harry could easily imagine a young Tom Ridde, following trail after trail into the walls above. Until he eventually made his way down here, red eyes burning.

Harry decided not to think anymore on the matter, given the troubles he already had to deal with. He tapped his wand against his forefinger, watching as a small drop of blood formed at the tip. When it grew to a sufficient size, Harry touched the bloody finger against the centre of the wall, where moments ago he'd seen a burning spiral of magic.

The bricks began to churn, moving inwards as a passage began to open up. A powerful sealing technique bound in blood, even Dumbledore couldn't have dispelled such magic, Harry idly noted.

He resisted the urge to burn the box and be done with it once more. As he delved down to the Chamber of Secrets, Harry couldn't help but notice how quaint it felt to be putting dark and strange magic *into* Salazar's hoard for once.

As he stepped back through the blood-sealed door, Harry took care to apply an extra powerful notice-me-not charm to the bag newly slung over his shoulder. It was insufficient, he thought with annoyance. Conjured objects like the bag weren't great receptacles for charms, their inherently magic nature cancelling out the magic of the charm. It was one of the many reasons that heavy, physical objects were usually used in enchantments meant to last years.

Still, it had been better than the alternative. He'd have been an idiot to try and cast the charms directly onto Slytherin's old tomes, or to have tried and shrunk them. He refused to acknowledge the bag as he walked back to the castle, his pace picking up a bit. He hadn't intended to take a look at Salazar's library, but his newfound clarity had led him to some interesting discoveries within the chamber. He'd noticed them entirely by accident, as he'd run his eyes eyes over the intensely magical space.

Tucked away under the rubble, in between odd places throughout the massive chamber, Harry had found a total of some six hidden nooks and crannies. Each little space had been meticulously locked shut with the Slytherin blood seal. Harry's eyes narrowed, his unconscious mind taking over as he withdrew to examine the memory in greater detail. He'd taken care to notice the lack of significant rot or decay. There had been dust, but nothing resembling the millennia old degradation that permeated the entire chamber.

No, these had been hidden far more recently. He hadn't stopped to inspect the odd pile of books, parchment and scrolls in detail, but he had noticed the peculiar cipher that seemed consistent throughout most of the texts. None of them bore any titles either.

An intense headache throbbed in the background.

His mind magic began to subside as Harry returned to the waking world. He rubbed the tiredness from his eyes, the use of legilimency to review one's memories was one of the useful benefits of learning mind magic, but that didn't mean that it wasn't incredibly taxing. He was definitely handling it better though. Last year the thought of casually using legilimency while stalking the deep dungeons would have struck him as senselessly careless.

He stifled a yawn as he exited the labyrinth and walked towards the pipe that led back up to the upper castle. He adjusted his bag as he knelt, hands grasping the sides of the tunnel.

And immediately froze.

The foreign magic stunk in the air, sending goosebumps down his skin. He'd have missed it were it not for the untarnished nature of the ancient space, and had he not have just come through the hole himself. His mystic eyes burned into action on instinct, emerald light flooding the small dark space. His pupils moved frantically about the entrance as he tried to understand what lay before him. He stood up in an instant, his eyes scanning the entrance to the labyrinth.

Whoever it was, they'd crawled through the hole recently. Very recently in fact, they'd come after him. He'd seen the clear impressions of warming charms and invisibility spells lingering in the tunnel. Whoever it was, they were still deep in the labyrinth.

Harry made sure to double check his own invisibility charms, casting a few additional spells to muffle sound and cancel out his odour. He wondered who the mysterious intruder was as he crept back into the maze.

Making sure the hallway was clear, Harry brought his mystic eyes to life, blasting the room with emerald light for a single moment. He began to walk as soon as the magic subsided, the signs of sloppy charm work already marked in his mind. He followed the signs, stopping periodically when he knew it was safe to activate his eyes.

As he went deeper and deeper down the seemingly endless halls, a knot began to form in Harry's stomach. Only a few people knew about this maze, and fewer still would dare to go so deep. They'd passed the exit to the Chamber of Secrets a while back. An old memory of an impossible map able to trace out any and all paths in Hogwarts flashed in his mind.

He grinned, another benefit of legilimency. No matter how far into the depths he pursued the stranger, he'd know exactly where they were.

Deeper and deeper he went. Harry's curiosity had transformed into an intense worry as he passed the half hour mark. He knew from his memories, preserved in perfect clarity thanks to his mind magic, that the maze went on for quite a while. When he'd come down here with Ron and Hermione, they'd been the first to enter after the Heir of Slytherin had just activated the protections that lay on the path to the Chamber. They'd never even thought to journey down this far.

It was a difficult task; using his mystic eyes in careful bursts (lest he give away his position), while he stalked an invisible intruder's afterimages through a pitch black maze, only the years old memory of a map the twin's had once shown him acting as a guide. It was genuinely a test that stretched the limits of Harry's magic, and the simultaneous use of legilimency and mystic eyes wasn't at all easy.

A half hour stretched on into an hour, every moment of the chase dragging on as Harry bit into his reserves. A strange sense of determination had begun to creep in.

The pain in his eyes and the strain on his unconscious mind didn't detract at all from his tactical ability. He'd quickly estimated early on that he'd only spent about an hour in the chamber. The traces of magic he'd seen lining the tunnel couldn't have been more than twenty minutes old when he had found them. Thus, whoever he was after couldn't have had more than a thirty minute head start on him. As the time stretched on and on, his mystic eyes had gathered enough data for him to have gained an idea of the intruder's pace as they'd stalked the empty maze. It hadn't been too hard with the memory of the map burning in his mind, the distance between every little wall clear to see.

A separate part of his mind, cut off from the rest through a clever use of occlumency, 'dinged' in his mind. Harry sped up his pace once more, going precisely a quarter meter a second faster.

As he'd pursued his prey, he'd calculated their speed down to a tee. Distances, velocities and the map flashing in his mind as the little mental computer generated out a plan of action. Every few seconds, it would send a little ding to the part of Harry's mind that controlled his legs, tuning their speed to match the precisely calculated value. He tracked their positions on the map, narrowing the possible outcomes at every turn.

He couldn't stop the wild smile from breaking out on his face, and invisible as he was he didn't particularly care. This was the true power of a magus! Able to instantly find themselves in a dangerous situation and stack the entire deck in their favour as the planned the point of confrontation. Harry hadn't started this fight, but he was sure as hell going to finish it. His blood pumping madly in his veins, he felt the metal 'ding' again and sped up once more.

He knew where they were going, where both of them were going. They'd already passed all the exits behind them, and the image of the map in his mind was an of an impossible artifact incapable of lying. Only dead ends and collapsed passages awaited ahead. He silenced a silly giggle that nearly threatened to spill from his lips. He wasn't far now at all.

The sweat on his forehead had drenched his hair, and his clothes stuck to his skin as he picked up speed again. Their path had narrowed down spectacularly. Only four possible ends lay before them, a total of some eighteen permutations that could lead them there. By now exactly 97 minutes had passed since he'd begun the chase, covering a total distance of more than eight kilometres. The target had kept a constant pace throughout the journey, and had had adjusted his speed precisely to make up the distance.

Every moment his mystic eyes further narrowed the possible paths. Soon, he came to a crossroads.

He felt his heart race as he burnt his eyes emerald and saw just what he had been looking for, a small footstep going to the right. All the occlumency in the world couldn't have stopped the immense waves of accomplishment rolling off him. He felt giddy. Abruptly his mind magic broke to a halt, the clever computation machines fading away, while soothing relief poured into his eyes as he turned away from the last footstep of magic he'd seen. Only the memory remained.

He smiled as he looked into the dark of the left wouldn't need his mystic eyes for this. He broke into a run, the image of the map ever burning in his head. He revelled in his own power as he ran, his feet turning into large plumes of smoke that flew him across the floor. The wind churned in his air as he let out a single laugh he'd been desperately holding back. The invader had made a mistake. They'd not known that both paths from crossroads terminated at the same dead end.

Not only that, but with his speed, Harry would reach the collapsed old exit before the intruder would at their current pace. He'd focused on narrowing the head start for this express purpose, to get ahead of them with a burst of speed near the end.

Magic burst through his wand like a flood through an inadequate dam, bright grey light reaching out to the vortex at his feet at he propelled himself to overtake his prey. He truly couldn't stop the near delirious feelings of pride that threatened to burst in his chest.

He'd found someone stalking the dungeons, then managed to discern their destination and make it there before them without ever having laid eyes on them. He'd utterly wiped away the intruder's advantage.

He came bursting through a decrepit doorway to find the ceiling broken away beneath his feet. Without skipping a beat, Harry wrought the magic as he fell, the tornado chipping away at the air. He landed in the open room with a large displacement of air, sending dust flying throughout the antechamber. With a note of annoyance, Harry manipulated the air to churn around him as he waited for the dust to settle.

His breathing was strained, the complex and consistent use of magic having gradually taken its toll. Finally ahead of his foe, he allowed his mind to truly relax for the first time since he'd begun the chase.

The dust formed a fog around him as it settled, but Harry didn't mind. He had a good ten minutes before the intruder arrived to meet him down here. There were a total of three possible paths he could come through, with two that dropped down from above. Harry briefly looked around the room with his mystic eyes. He'd seen it on the map, but that was different from actually laying his eyes on it.

The design seemed odd, even for the depths of the castle. It barely resembled the rest of the cobblestone and brickwork architecture that dominated the deep maze, looking more similar to a strange mishmash of the Interior Ministry and the Astronomy Tower. The room was entirely devoid of magic and Harry couldn't have found a single mark of life even if his own had depended on it. Whatever this place was it had clearly been important in it's heyday, given from the number of exits that led down here.

As he cast several alert charms and a bounded field to warm him of the intruder's proximity, Harry wondered why few of the many exits that led down to the pit had stairs to get back up. Maybe people were supposed to fall down and make their way from the passages on the ground floor? He eyed the scarce few doors around him, most of the exits on the ground floor had long caved in. He absently wondered where they had once led to, the map only including the working pathways.

When the bounded field had expanded a large enough area, Harry cancelled the spell and let the charm hang in the air. If anyone came within three hundred meters of his location, he would know. Sure someone could dispel it with a simple finite, but then he'd know that it was gone and that was kind of the point.

Just in case there was going to be a fight, Harry drew out a few arrays in the thick dust, tapping his wand to each as he finished. If things decided to get ugly, Harry had tricks waiting up his sleeve. He drew as many explosive arrays as he thought sensible, before adding a few more just to be on the safe side. The map in his mind was a huge advantage, if it really came to it Harry could have selectively caved in the walls as he fought a tactical retreat, sealing them behind him as he trapped his-

He abruptly blinked, realizing the nature of his thoughts. He stepped back as he blended into the darkness, chiding himself for having such silly thoughts this deep underground. His muscles felt tense as he began the wait, every pore ready to burst open with magic at the slightest hint of disturbance.

It would be any moment now that his prey would enter the bounded field, and then Harry would pounce.

But the minute stretched on.

And turned into five.

That turned into half an hour.

Deep down all alone in this ancient place, even his sense of time felt distorted. He had never experienced such a silent dark as he waited.

Harry's lips felt exceptionally dry as he checked the map for nth time in his head. It didn't take a genius to realize that he had been stood up. Somewhere along the line, he had broken from a calculated plan into a madman's blind charge.

The image of the map dominated his every thought. It was an impossible magical artifact, incapable of telling a lie. Hermione had even thought that the Marauder's Map was linked directly to the root of Hogwarts itself, a psychic manifestation of castle made real.

But then, how had the mysterious invader vanished on what the map said was a straight road right down to him?

With a sigh he stood up, his patience at an end. He had clearly miscalculated. Or maybe whoever it was had just decided to turn back. He snorted in the dark as he stretched his weary muscles, it had been real stupid of him to just blindly-

His thoughts came to a halt in an instant.

He didn't move, even his heart refused to beat.

His hand slowly moved to his naked back as panic flooded into his mind.

The hour was late by the time Harry made his way back to the surface. He'd emerged from the ancient latrine pipe covered in muck, grime and copious amounts of dust.

He spared the exit a look with his mystic eyes, but as expected he found no trace of the mysterious intruder's magic. Here, in the upper echelons of the castle, magic flowed through the halls like water. Any traces left by a stalking student would have been easily washed away, a stark contrast to the silent and dead dungeons below.

He tried not to notice the absence of the bag on his shoulders as he headed for the showers and the dorm. He made liberal use of his occlumency, doing his best not to react to his profound mistake. Here he was, trying his hardest to make Hogwarts' safe for his loved ones before he had to leave. Instead he'd inadvertently released terrible dark magic in the dungeons below, knowing that there was someone else creeping about the same path.

The filth caked under his nails was a testament to the hours he'd spend searching, all to no avail. Even with all the mind magic in the world he couldn't keep the anxiety from leaking into his conscious mind. He of all people knew that such actions did not go unnoticed. Through his carelessness he had let loose a powerful evil into the castle. Somewhere out there, the strings of fate were weaving into a terror of his making. There had been too many strange coincidences of late that didn't add up. And now, he had just thrown potent dark magic into the mix.

He resolved to go back down to the deep dungeons and search the area again at first light. Yet for some strange reason, he doubted that he would ever see those books again.

The silence of the castle felt good on his ears. Compared to the impossible quiet of the deepest parts of the maze below, this was practically a racket. He tried his best to enjoy the walk back to the dorms, appreciating how the pale moonlight cast the castle a deep blue in the midnight. There was a certain life that permeated the moonlit halls of Hogwarts that had been completely absent from the deep dungeon below.

He felt relieved that it was still up here, he'd half expected to emerge into a decrepit castle under a starless sky.

He reached the Common Room before he knew it. It wasn't long before he'd stripped and gotten under the hot water.

The lost bag kept popping into his mind as he scrubbed his browned skin clean. His occlumency kept failing, buckling under the pressure of his own anxieties and regret. The image of himself, zeroing in on a stranger as they both traversed the impossible dark of the depths of Hogwarts, kept haunting him. He'd flown through the ancient halls, maybe the first to set foot in them in centuries, like a madman possessed with murder in his eyes.

He tried to scrub the image away along with the rest of the muck from down there. He kept telling himself that he should have known better. Using his magic in such a way was temping fate.

Harry gulped, feeling an invisible noose tighten around his neck.

He finished his shower and began to dry himself off, having taken his time to thoroughly scrub away all the grime and sweat.

He appraised the door to the changing room carefully, before shrugging and stepping through. This late at night there was no one around to see him. With only a towel wrapped around his waist, Harry took stock of himself in the mirror for the first time in a while.

His eyes widened as he blinked repeatedly, suddenly understanding why everyone kept commenting on his tan. Apart from the scars he concealed under his robes everyday, not a speck of his previous complexion remained on his skin. He ran his fingers over the healing wound in his thigh, where Dumbledore had nearly chopped him in half. The skin that slowly grew there seemed to be even darker than the surrounding area.

He stepped closer to the mirror, his hands running through his hair as he closely inspected his once jet black locks. With his skin this different, he'd expected his hair to have begun changing as well. But even as the Moon Princess' words rang in his ears, he only found a cursory amount of stray white hairs in the ocean of black.

Breaking away from the mirror, Harry began to dress himself. He'd decided on a casual robe. He doubted that he'd manage to catch any sleep tonight. There were questions he wanted answered, things that would bother him all night if he tried to rest right now.

With his shirt unbuttoned Harry spared the mirror one last glance. Leaning back, he decided to flex on a whim, watching with more than a little interest as the powerful muscles contorted and grew. His biceps had grown surprisingly big, but it was his abs that gave him the most pause. Even peppered in rough, uneven scars as they were, Harry couldn't help but notice that he looked pretty damn good.

With a little sadness, he realized that he looked far too good for a fifteen year old boy who'd been underfed for most of his life. He didn't care to linger on those thoughts, and hurried to button his shirt.

Even at this time of night, the Common Room had its faithful. A small group of first years occupied the prime seats by the hearth, ones that they'd never be able to grab during the day. A few pseudo-Ravenclaws worked away in the corners, unaware or uncaring of the hour. Harry spied Neville, settled into a plush armchair as he shuffled through a leaflet of parchment. Harry hadn't gotten the chance to congratulate him on his shiny new badge, but the it was too late to do so right now.

Besides, he thought as he left the common room, he had more important things to do.

He felt a bit of unease going back down the way he had come through only an hour ago. As he reached the fork in the crossroads between the Hufflepuff Dungeons and the deep maze below, he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Even at this time of night the walls that led to the Hufflepuff Basement were warm and cozy.

Harry had stopped using the lumos spell a long time ago, instead relying on the nightvison of his inactive mystic eyes, but he still recognized the little pinprick of light far down the tunnel. Without missing a step, he cast a series of invisibility charms. Harry marvelled at how fast the spells wove into action. The standard cloaking charms all relied on a desire not to be seen and noticed, so Harry's intent had never been lacking. But still, it was exciting to see his immense improvement in action.

As the light grew closer, Harry recognized the wizard holding the wand. Justin Finch-Fletchley, right outside his own Common Room, seemed as out of place as Harry had in the depths below the castle. He reached with with his legilimency, innocently curious about what the skittish boy was up to. With his spells hiding him from Justin's eyes the legilimency probe was even more potent; normally with a passing glance all he could extract were surface thoughts.

He winced as he received the memories, pausing for a moment to watch Justin head back slowly towards his Common Room and to bed. It turned out that Justin had been coming back from Harry's current destination, a particularly guilty conscience having kept him up till the late hour. He shook his head at Justin's foolishness. He really ought to feel guilty, poor Hannah hadn't even been able to sit down properly the next day.

'Well, at least he came to confess', Harry thought as he bent down to unseal the door to Saint Helena's Chapel. He cancelled the spells concealing his form as the tiny cross burnt into the stone.

As Harry entered the sanctum for the second time since his return, he was surprised at how different it just was. Soft orchestral music beamed down from an infinitely high ceiling, a chorus that Harry knew no human tongue could ever weave. Far more lit candles littered the cathedral. Though the endless pews remained just as empty save for a single woman seated by the altar. Even from the entrance, Harry could make out her hands clasped in prayer, and her church attire.

It may not have been the specific maiden he was searching for, but as Harry approached the other end of the room he decided that Ginny Weasley and Deborah Baker had a similar sort of look as they prayed.

With his footsteps echoing through the near empty church, Harry cursed his luck for having come during a confession. Randomly scheduled and revealed only upon request, Hogwarts' confessionals were something that Harry tried his best to stay away from.

As he neared the altar, Deborah's voice rang out ahead of him, her eyes and hands unmoving, "I had not thought to see you here tonight Harry Potter. Have you come to confess your sins to the Lord?"

He raised an eyebrow and wondered how she had known it was him. He had felt no magic in the air, but miracles were beyond his sensory capabilities. He took a seat in the pew a row behind her.

"I'm sorry Sister Deborah," he answered with a smile, "I actually came looking for Ginny. She wasn't in the Common Room and..."

This close he was able to take a better look at her. He regretted his thought about comparing her to Ginny. Deborah had a slightly homely look about her that had more in common with Molly Weasley. As seventh-year who'd earned her robes when she'd given her theology OWL, Deborah was as typical of a maiden of the church as they came.

She unclasped her hands and turned her head towards him, "Did tonight's confession catch you unaware then?"

Harry nodded, wishing she'd get to the point and just tell him where Ginny was already.

Deborah seemed to appraise him carefully, "The hour is late to be seeking the company of a young lady. Pray tell what do you require of Sister Ginny?"

Last year, Harry would have told her it was none of her business and gone looking for Ginny himself. He prided himself on his growth as he replied, "She had an exorcism today, down in the Shrieking Shack. She wasn't in the Common Room so I thought she'd be praying down here. Just wanted to make sure everything went okay".

Try as he might, he couldn't fully stop his distaste for her from leaking through, and he didn't doubt that she had noticed.

Still, she seemed outwardly pleased by his answer, "I am glad that Sister Ginny has friends that care about her so. She is very talented indeed".

Harry rose an eyebrow at that, but didn't interrupt as she continued, "It strikes me odd, however, that you should find yourself here at the time of confession. With Sister Ginny nowhere near".

Harry leaned forward, "What do you mean? She isn't down here?"

Deborah shook her head, "She and Father Snape left for the shack this morning, but have not yet returned. We were told to expect them to return late but I had not thought that Father would have missed the confession".

Harry felt a weight plop down in his stomach. Snape and Ginny were still at the shack? His head felt lightheaded. With all the unfortunate events taking place recently, he couldn't help but feel that this was somehow connected. His day had gone from bad to worse to outright terrible, and he'd been hoping to end it on a pleasant note.

His wand grew warm in his pocket as he spoke, "Are they both still at the shack? Any idea how far in they planned to go?"

Deborah seemed surprised by the question, "I'm afraid not Harry. Have no fear though, the Lord illuminates their path. I am sure they will return soon".

Harry didn't care for her answer, "Yeah, but any idea how soon?"

He was seriously debating going down to the shack himself if Deborah continued to drive him crazy.

Her voice was hard to hear in the silence of the chapel, "This would have been Sister Ginny's first time experiencing the darkness of the shack, I doubt they would have gone far. But have faith Harry for Father Snape is with her, and more than that the Lord will assuredly return them to us. If they are delayed, it is only by his design".

He slunk back down, her words giving him some measure of comfort. With Snape behind her, and given that they wouldn't have gone too far into the hellish landscape that lay bottled up inside the Shrieking Shack, Harry thought that few things would have been able to give them any real trouble.

"Mayhaps you would care to await their return with me Harry? Though I shall have to take my leave should one of the Lord's children arrive seeking confession," she added.

Harry nodded, he wouldn't have minded catching up on some sleep while he waited. The church was a surprisingly comfortable place to be in when he wasn't alone.

As he pulled out his wand and began to conjure himself a pillow, Deborah interrupted his thoughts, "Or perhaps it was also part of the Lord's design that you were to arrive here tonight Harry".

With his pillow in his hands and sleep only a few meters away, Harry took a moment to understand what she was saying, "Sorry Sister, I didn't quite catch that".

She turned around to face him, her smile shining merrily as the candles danced gently across her eye, "Mayhaps it is no coincidence that you wandered into the Lord's embrace, with a heavy heart and sin on your mind".

Harry blinked, his pillow forgotten as he took in her words, "How do you know there's sin on my mind?"

She giggled, and Harry found the sound not entirely unpleasant, "Is there anything else on the minds of teenage boys these days?"

Harry didn't bother hiding the smile from his face, "Thankfully sister, my sins haven't gotten to the point where I need to confess them away yet. Still have room for a few more".

Deborah didn't seem to mind his response, "As you wish Harry, but confession isn't just a place to unburden one of sin. Many come to share their trials and tribulations with the Lord. Some find their luck turned the next day as the Lord shoulders the weight alongside them".

Harry abruptly realized that Deborah had been using some kind of miracle. He'd never heard or seen of anything like it before, but she had clearly come by it recently. He noted the similarity to legilimency, his interest piqued. Maybe agreeing to a confession wasn't such a bad idea if it ended with him taking the details of her technique from her mind.

He measured his words carefully, "Actually, now that you mention it Sister-"

But before he could acquiesce to her idea, a small ringing noise broke out somewhere in the distance. Harry's eyes flickered over the door nearest to the altar as the ringing continued, small and uneven pauses in between.

Deborah was already up and moving before Harry had the chance to voice his thoughts, she made for the door with a note of alarm clear on her face. As Harry moved to follow her, she seemed to realize he was here for the first time.

"Oh! Harry, I'm sorry but would you do me a favour," she started hurriedly, "I'll be back in a moment but would you take up the confessional stand should a student arrive? Just tell them I'll be back in a moment".

She shut the door behind her, and Harry heard her quick footsteps echo through to the other side. He'd barely gotten up from the pew by the time Deborah had already slammed the door in his face. The ringing suddenly stopped, and Harry's thoughts went to what it could have meant. He'd never heard that particular bell in the church before, but it wasn't as if he'd spent a lot of time here recently.

He considered turning on his mystic eyes and trying to see what Deborah was up to by looking through the walls, but discarded the idea. The silence seemed to weigh on him, the air heavy in the church. Without Deborah around, the chorus and orchestral music in the background grew louder in his ears. He tried not to listen to it. Now knowing what it really was, the sound scared him a little bit.

Clearing his head, he tried to bring his attention back to Deborah's interesting little ability.

She'd clearly been sensing his emotions when he'd walked in, although it didn't take a genius to realize that he clearly had something on his mind. He'd felt nothing against his occlumency barriers, and it should have been impossible for any hostile foreign magic to have penetrated his mind completely. His brow furrowed in thought as the memory from a week ago hit him. No, his shields were completely secure, sealed at the end with blood. Even against true titans of mind magic, they would hold.

He eyed the place where she'd been sitting. Mystic eyes came alive as he reached out to touch the still warm wood. Miracles by themselves left behind no trace of magic, but it was a rare wizard who didn't supplement their miracles with a few charms. He turned his eyes off, letting the light fade as he slowly withdrew his hand. He'd seen nothing anyways, and he hadn't felt like looking around the cathedral with his mystic eyes active. And he'd have been a fool to look up.

His eyes snapped back to the door a moment before they opened, Deborah carefully but quickly making her way back to the altar.

She stopped as she saw him, "Oh Harry, I'm glad you're here. It seems the Lord heard your plea".

Harry raised an eyebrow, that only meant one thing.

"But," Deborah continued, a little hesitation creeping into her voice, "I'm afraid Sister Ginny sustained a minor wound while delivering the Lord's justice. She's in the Hospital Wing with Father-"

Harry had turned around before shed even finished speaking. He had heard enough. With everything going on lately, he wasn't sure if this was related but the panic hit him regardless. His hand camp up behind him as sent her a wave and quickly walked towards the exit, "Thanks Sister! I'll catch you on that confession some other time!"

He winced as his voice echoed loudly through the church, drowning out Deborah's reply behind him as he made for the Hospital Wing. He was quick to leave the shadow of the chorus behind him.

By the time his feet touched the Hufflepuff hallway, his wand had already cast three separate spells. Cold water trickled down his back as invisibility covered him like a shroud, and with all noise muffled he broke into a run with the wind at his legs.

As he sped down the hallways he began to pick up speed, his acceleration unceasing even as he took sharp turns throughout the castle. It was far easier to turn at high speeds in Hogwarts compared to the never-ending training ground of the Millennium Castle, given that no deathly trap awaited him around every corner. Slowly but surely his invisible run turned into as invisible flight, a soundless phantom that tore its way through the castle in the night.

The late hour meant that the halls were entirely deserted, but Harry made sure not to let down his guard lest he accidentally stomp Mrs. Norris into a puddle. As he ran down up the Hospital Wing, he felt someone cast a spell a few floors below him. He almost stopped, the familiar greasy feel of the magic stirring his memories.

Yet Ginny dominated his thoughts, and he only flew faster.

He had cancelled cancelled his charms only a few feet from the door. Bursting into existence with a silent drop, the *Muffliato* spell being the last to leave. He stood up and dusted off his robe, fingers quickly reaching out to the handle.

The door almost impossibly softly as he entered into the dark room. The large hall was filled with empty sickbeds, and a single candle lingered at the counter at the distance. Cold moonlight flooded the hall as Harry made his way over to Madam Pomfrey, who hadn't noticed hi yet. This early in the year the entirety of the Hospital Wing would have been empty, and Ginny had either already been sent back or been given a private room.

Harry didn't want to startle the elderly matron, Good evening Madam Pomfrey, sorry for bothering you so late".

She looked up from the stack of papers she'd been immersed in with a bit of fright, "Oh Harry! I didn't expect to see you here. Don't tell me you've gotten into trouble again so early in-"

Harry waved her off, "No, no, nothing so far. I just dropped by to see Ginny. I found out that she'd gotten hurt during her exorcism yesterday, just wanted to drop by and see her. I knew it's way past curfew, but it's almost morning and..."

She gave him a raised eyebrow, "And you thought you could just bend the rules one more time Harry?"

He gave her a fake nervous chuckle in response, she was more likely to let him through if she thought she held all the power.

But before he could push her any further, her eyes softened as she looked towards the doors lining the wall behind her, "Well, it is almost morning after all and I daresay she wouldn't mind the company. Go on through, Room 14".

Harry blinked. He'd not been expecting it to be have been so easy, but he gave her an earnest thanks as he motioned towards the offending door.

A few steps from the handle, a voice familiar caught his ears.

"...more careful. Taking stock and keeping accurate inventory is crucial..."

A distinctly unpleasant voice that somehow conjured the image of citrus fruit rotting in the sun.

He didn't bother waiting a moment before opening the door and stepping into the room, Snape going silent as he stepped in.

The first thing that hit him was the stink. His nose crinkled as the foul smell of decay intermingled with sterile potions worked its way down his lungs. He eyed a particularly filthy pile of black rags near the foot of the bed, abruptly realizing that they were the remnants of Ginny's robes.

The second thing he noticed was Ginny herself, lying in the bed covered in crisp white sheets. Her forehead had been wrapped in bandages, and her right arm was in a cast. Her head had snapped towards the door as he'd entered, her mouth slightly open as she watched Harry close the door behind him. Harry winced as he saw her right leg levitating in the air, wrapped in a thick cast.

The last thing he wished to acknowledge was Snape, his hair greasy as ever. Only a few scorch marks and the occasional tear marred his otherwise immaculate vestments. Harry met Snape's eyes directly as he came in, looking right into beady black pools he knew to be empty inside. Snape had been in the middle of saying something when he'd entered but it was Ginny who spoke first.

"Harry! What're you doing here?" Ginny asked, her surprise all to evident.

He tore his eyes away from Snape and onto Ginny, replying with a small smile, "Just wanted to see how your exorcism had gone, got a little worried when Sister Deborah told me you'd gotten hurt".

Ginny beamed in response, and Harry was struck by just how happy she looked. In all the years that he'd known her, he'd rarely seen her so obviously pleased.

Snape interrupted them with a small cough as he cleared his throat, "Well, it appears you have company Ms. Weasley. I shall not keep you any longer, today has been tiring enough as it is. See me before Theology tomorrow, we have much to discuss".

Snape didn't spare him a second glance as Ginny bid him a small, "Yes Professor". Nonetheless, Harry felt the slight touch of mental fingers probing into his mind as Snape walked by. He grinned, his own mental magic rising to the forefront to bat away Snape's tendril like a fly.

He noticed Snape pause, his hand on the door handle. Harry didn't bother turning around, but he took a vicious sense of joy in having beat Snape at his own game. Last year, he'd never have detected such a subtle use of legilimency.

But Snape's parting words still served to surprise him, "Your progress this summer has been exceptional Ms. Weasley. I hope you endeavour to maintain your level of growth".

Harry nearly turned around to stare at Snape's head, eyes bulging in shock. Had Snape just given an honest compliment? To a Gryffindor? His legilimency shot out on its own, but the door shut and it found only wood.

Harry blinked, turning to Ginny and not bothering to his unease, "What was that about?"

Ginny only seemed to close her eyes and smile, wriggling the sheets about her. She used her hands to lift herself and plopped down to the left of the bed. Se wiggled her bum and made herself comfortable, happily patting the place she'd made next to her.

On some other day, Harry may have seen fit to look the gift horse in the mouth. Today however, bad luck had been following him wherever he had gone and he wasn't going to shirk at the only inviting prospect he'd seen all day.

He sat down right next to her, careful not to agitate her wounds but Ginny seemed to throw his caution right out of the window, wrapping her arms around his as she pulled them back onto the pillow. Harry couldn't help but let his surprise show as she nuzzled his shoulder happily, her nose only inches away from his.

"What's got you in such a nice mood," he wondered out loud. She didn't seem to hear him, more intent on getting him in the bed with her.

Ginny moved her one free leg towards his as best she could, trying to nudge the shoes off of his feet as they hunger over the bed, "Take your shoes off, and don't get the bed dirty".

Harry rolled his eyes at her, his wand coming up with a quick swish and flick. The moment his shoes hit the ground, Ginny intertwined her available leg in between his and threw the sheets over them with her uninjured hand.

Her eyes closed and Harry felt her pull him down, deeper into the bed. His hand reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. She looked so beautiful, he thought abruptly. So happy and alive that her hair shone like fire in the dark room.

"I reckon you had a good time down at the shack?" Harry wondered, brushing his hand through her hair. He wished he had a comb.

Ginny's only response was a a vigorous nod and a pleasant whine that purred out of her throat as Harry scratched her head. He couldn't even smell the scent of decay or the noxious sterility of the potions that lay scattered throughout the room, Ginny's scent dominating his senses.

Harry's troubles seemed to bleed away as he lay there with Ginny, rubbing her head as she snuggled into him. The soft moonlight that filled the room was only broken by a single candle that hung in the air. Ginny didn't seem to want to stop moving, and Harry marvelled at her energy. His own worries felt like a thing of the past, the day's unfortunate events shoved far in the back of his mind with a comfort that mind magic could never bring. Her buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply, letting the exhaustion tremble out of his bones.

Still, he took care not to aggravate Ginny's injuries, especially given her own sense of abandon. He was dying to hear about what had happened in the shack but...

He didn't dare disturb the situation he found himself in.

Ginny felt wonderfully warm pressed up against him like this. As he rubbed his hands over her waist, he couldn't help be appreciate the dense muscle concealed under the hospital gown. Her head may have been as big as his bicep, but for her size Ginny was an incredibly strong girl. She felt a bit like marble, but soft somehow. And unlike him, he thought as he pulled her close, her strength was entirely without the aid of magic.

His mental clock, constantly ticking during the day and giving him his perfect sense of time, faded into the background as he truly gave into Ginny's embrace. He wasn't sure how much time passed as the two of them lay there in silence, but it wasn't long before darkness covered his eyes and he silently fell asleep.

And in her warm embrace, he dreamed of a frozen wasteland.

*The sun's light never touched the dark side of the moon*

*He had forgotten even the feeling of warmth*

*Uncountable hours spent alone in the cold and dark*

*His haze of bloodlust broken only once*

*As the intruder bent down to whisper*

"Harry! Are you asleep!"

Ginny's voice tore him from the darkness, the dream all but forgotten as he replied on instant, "Wha- No, no, 'M awake?"

His hands tried to come up to rub his eyes, but he felt a small resistance tug down. Looking towards them, he noticed that Ginny was hugging his right arm with her left, her bandaged right hand firmly gripping his left wrist.

She seemed annoyed as she looked away from Harry's face, "I just wanted to cuddle Harry, I didn't think you'd fall asleep without asking me-"

Harry interrupted her with a roll of his eyes, "Oh come on Gin, it's not like that".

He wriggled his arm gently but firmly out of her grasp, ignoring her quick squeak. Before he could protest, he brought it around her shoulders and quickly pulled her towards him. Ginny was a small girl, and he easily moved her about as he got comfortable.

"I just felt tired is all," he said looking down at her.

Her eyes seemed irritated as she lay up on his chest, but this close Harry could see that she wasn't actually mad, "Uh huh. You still haven't asked you know".

He gave her a quick shake, staying away from her injuries, but enjoying her yelp all the same, "Okay, okay, would you please tell me how your exorcism went?"

Ginny beamed as she began her tale, her eyes dancing with pride, "Well, remember how I told me we were hunting some ghoul that ate a few cows and scared some kids?"

Harry nodded, remembering the details of the simple job. The spirit had fled to the magically enhanced space of the Shrieking Shack a long time ago, but had only recently started coming out at night to cause havoc in Hogsmeade. Normally the priest at the parish in Hogsmeade would have taken care of it after hearing complaints from the citizenry at mass, but the Shrieking Shack lay on Hogwarts ground. Not to mention that he almost certainly wasn't up to the task.

As such, Hogwarts' own priest had to take care of it.

"Well, we went straight to the Shack from Hogwarts. Under the Whomping Willow if you can believe it, but it took us right outside the shack," her eyes widened as she paused for dramatic effect.

"You should have seen it Harry, it's *huge*. It looks like a massive cave on the inside. Ladders that just go down and down. Professor Snape said that it was bigger that the chapel, like way bigger," her one working hand came free as she tried to gesture in the air.

"And there was the smell!" she wrinkled her nose in distaste, "Even in the passage from Hogwarts I could smell it, but down in the shack I couldn't believe how bad it was. It stank so bad Harry! I almost puked all over Professor Snape the minute we went in!"

"That would have been a fun way to start the exorcism," Harry quipped, "But why'd you guys end up taking so along? I thought you weren't gonna be going that deep-"

Ginny interrupted him with a shake of the head, "Thats what I thought as well. Professor Snape thought, cause Father Daemon had said so, that the spirit was just a ghoul coming out to kill some cows and scare some kids".

Harry felt her push a little closer into his chest. There was a faraway look in her eyes as she continued, "Professor Snape thought that we'd only have to go down ten floors. But when we finally found it's lair you won't believe what we saw".

As he waited for her to continue, Harry realized that she was purposely delaying. He let his annoyance show with a slight kick to her shin, "Yeah, yeah, what did you see?"

Ginny looked right at him, "We didn't find a lair Harry, we found a nest. A whole nest full of Marygrants Harry. A whole fucking nest!"

Harry didn't bother hiding his shock, "Holy shit, what the hell is a nest of Marygrants doing this close to Hogwarts? So the little shit that had been coming out at night-"

"Was just one of the Marygrants that had hatched early," she continued for him, "I don't think they were expecting us. Most of the things in there had just hatched, but there was a fully grown male protecting the nest".

Harry paled at hearing that. For once, he thanked the Gods for Snape's presence.

"We managed to kill it. Well, Professor Snape did most of the work, I just kept the small ones away from him," she snorted, "it was more like target practice really".

Harry nodded, "Still, you guys shouldn't have been held up down there that long. If it was just on the tenth floor-"

Ginny cut him off once again, getting up slightly as she grew more excited, "Harry don't you see, we couldn't just leave! The nest had been tiny. Professor Snape said that the male guarding it had been young, not too big himself. They had to have come from somewhere!"

He felt his blood go cold as she continued, "We had to go deeper, find the female".

Harry inhaled sharply, "What the- Snape let you come along for that!"

A female Marygrant was an altogether different beast, a terrifyingly powerful spirit that fell squarely in the class of 'True Revenant'. An extraordinarily rare phenomenon in the modern era, they were nigh impossible to make naturally or artificially, and took centuries of angst to form. Even a powerful mage would steer clear of a mature Marygrant.

Ginny seemed taken back by his answer, "Well, Professor Snape couldn't have just left after destroyed the first nest! If we left the mother might have found the burnt nest and decided to go deeper into the shack".

Harry wasn't too happy with her answer, but he didn't much care for how she kept inching away from him, "That doesn't explain why you had to go with him".

At that Ginny seemed to shy away, "Well, after we cleared out the first nest he said my trial was complete and gave me a portkey. But then he just started going towards the ladder and I just..."

Harry brought his occlumency into action for the first time since he lay down. He didn't want to lose his anger and spoil the moment, "You what Ginny?"

"I told him that my trial wasn't over," she continued, "I didn't think it was over. Like, what if it had been a sign that-"

"Ginny for fuck's sake," Harry interrupted as his hand came up to massage the bridge of his nose.

She rolled her eyes at him, but let out a breath as she realized he had nothing more to say. Harry had already guessed the nature of their delay and knew that getting angry wouldn't have helped, but hearing about it directly from her was another thing.

She let her weight fall back on him, getting comfortable again, "Well, anyway, I didn't think it was a sign either but... I don't know, I just wanted to see the rest of the shack. Actually do the job and-"

Harry cut her off with a squeeze, "Yeah, yeah, you decided to be stupid. That explains why you got hurt. Still, what actually went down?"

Ginny didn't answer, pausing for a moment before flicking her messy hair towards Harry, "Pet me".

Harry rolled his eyes as he began to comb her hair with his fingers, nails scratching softly against her scalp.

"After that, it wasn't long before we found the second nest. We got to this one just in time, more than half of the little things hadn't hatched yet and the big one protecting it was really dumb. I managed to kill him all by myself actually!"

Harry's hands froze in her hair. An immediate whine from Ginny's lips made him quickly continue, but the couldn't hide the shock from his voice, "Damn Gin. I've never seen a Marygrant but I know that they're tough shits. That one Marygrant in the maze nearly cut Krum open last year. You managed to exorcize it yourself?"

Ginny dismissed his flattery with a wink, "Mhmm. It wasn't hard at all. It only took twenty keys before I managed to get it to fall, and the dummy was so slow he just let me poke him full of holes".

He gave her a vigorous scratch, combing her hair all back at once and stretching her face as one would do to a cat, "That's my girl".

She wriggled out of his grasp and stuck out her tongue before continuing, "Professor Snape torched the nest with Bright Fire after we were done. You should it seen it Harry, it can burn *anything* so long as there's heresy in it. Anything, even water".

He'd actually seen the heretic hunter's Bright Fire miracle in action before, but Ginny didn't need to know that. Her awe and respect were well founded. Harry would never forget the golden church flames, leaping from field to field and building to building as they consumed an entire village.

"No kidding, I'm surprised it didn't burn the whole shack down," he replied.

Ginny didn't seem to have heard him, "After that we just kept going deeper and deeper. Most of the nests we found after that were old, just a few Marygrants here and there guarding some unhatched eggs. We didn't take a single break Harry, Professor Snape just kept casting miracles and we stayed on the move".

As he rose an eyebrow in response to her praise of Snape, she continued, "I don't think he even took a single sip of water the whole time. You should have seen him in action Harry, like somewhere near the fortieth floor we walked right into a trap. The nest looked deserted from the outside, so we walked right in just to make sure it was empty. Boom! Four Marygrants fell from the ceiling".

Harry couldn't have hidden his shock if he'd tried, "Fucking hell, four of them? Please tell me you got out of there while-"

She shook her head, "Nope, Professor Snape took on three of them at the those things at once. You should have seen him Harry, he killed one instantly by just summoning like a hundred black keys and throwing them like a cannon. I mean, I knew Professor Snape was strong but I didn't think he was that strong. He left the smallest one to me, and like I said they're actually not that scary once you get used to killing them".

Harry interrupted, "Ginny, a Marygrant isn't a joke. They're-"

She didn't seem to want to hear it, "Have you ever seen a Marygrant Harry? Huh? Or killed one?"

At his silence, she smugly continued, "Go ahead and ask me how many of those things I took down today. Go ahead".

Harry gave her what she so badly wanted, "And just how many Marygrants did you kill today Ginny?"

She snuggled close into him and answered, "I honestly don't know! Harry listen I need a favour!"

At the abrupt change in topic, and her renewed affections, Harry grew a bit suspicious, "Uh huh, what's in it for me".

Ginny's good hand shot out jokingly at his side, a pair of knuckles striking right at his ribs. She'd only punched him from about two inches away but it damn near made Harry cry out loud. Every single bit of his occlumency training barely helped him disguise the immense pain as a small cough. God damn that had hurt! Ginny had always been tough for a girl, growing up with six bothers, but this was something else. He shoved her playfully in response.

As she continued to talk, Harry briefly wondered if Ginny had any idea of how abnormally strong she was, "I need you to make me new seals, ok? I used up all of my black keys today and thats why I ended up getting hurt".

Her eyes rose up to meet him, beautiful brown eyes glistening with a thin coat of moisture, her lips quivered in an adorable pout, "Please Harry, you make them so much better than me, come one I-"

He cut her off, "Ginny I told you last year, you have to learn how to make simple storage seals by..."

The memory came to the forefront as his voice trailed off, Ginny inquisitively looking up to see why he had stopped talking.

He licked his lips, a small pit growing in his stomach, "Ginny, did you say you used up all the seals I made you?"

She nodded, he duly noted how cute she looked.

"Ginny, there was space for almost a thousand keys in there. I made those for you at the start of summer. There's no way you could have used them all up, especially in just-"

Ginny seemed surprisingly happy by his assessment, "That's what Professor Snape said too but it's true, I'm completely out. I don't even know how many of those Marygrants and its babies we killed today. We never did manage to find the female, but we went all the way down some... I don't know, seventy floors maybe?"

His mouth hung open as he digested the information, but Ginny didn't seem to mind, "Anyways, at that point Professor Snape decided that wherever the female was, she definitely wasn't going to be a threat to Hogsmeade. Besides, I'd run out of keys by then and you know how bad I am with a wand. Neither of us realized the time until we got back".

He turned towards her, pride and joy evident on his face, "Don't worry your pretty little head alright. I'll make sure to make you some new seals tomorrow. I think I can make some even better ones now".

He was rewarded for his answer with a happy series of snuggles, Ginny settling into him with a long, comfortable whine.

He brushed her hair out of her face, "You had a hell of a day huh Gin. Let's try and get some sleep yeah?"

She nodded eagerly in his shoulder as he spelled the door shut. A series of silent spells cast powerful locking charms on the door, given that he'd rather not be interrupted by a disapproving Pomfrey. With a second thought he decided to add several extra layers of protection to the room, going so far as to secure the windows and prevent even prying mystic eyes.

As Ginny fell asleep in his arms, Harry moved his hands down her waist. She really did feel like soft marble, he idly noted, extraordinarily muscular for her age and physique. As sleep took him as well, he did his best not to dream of cursed red eyes that refused to die.

But the nightmares came anyway.


	7. Chapter Five

**Chapter 5: The Maiden in the the Tower, the Dragon above, and the Knight racing below.**

Occlumency gave a wizard a terrible advantage. Lying at the cornerstone of the esoteric and essential field of mind magic, it had only a few scattered adherents jealously guarding their knowledge. One of the many benefits occlumency conferred upon the user was a perfect, silent alarm clock in their head that would never fail.

Harry was tired when he woke, having gotten only a few hours of sleep. He gently disentangled himself from Ginny, who lay loudly snoring in the sunlight. While he stretched quietly, his mind estimated that it was nearly time for breakfast. As he eyed the sleeping Ginny, an idea hit him.

It wasn't long before he cracked open the window, leaving a slit just wide enough for a snake to pass through. Transformed, he made his way down the sloped outer walls of the Hospital Wing.

The kitchens were bursting with activity when he arrived, house elves rushing about with their strange magic and laying innumerable dishes on four full sized replica tables meant to mimic the tables in the Great Hall. Their location directly below the actual Hall itself made the speedy displacement of fresh food and empty plates from one hall to the other exceptionally easier.

Transformed as he was, he easily spotted Dobby amongst the crowd. The elf had taken nicely to his new position among the Hogwarts staff, and shook Harry's had enthusiastically when he saw him. After having Dobby quickly prepare him a decent sized platter of food, Harry spent a little time transfiguring the mess of dishes, plates, glasses, drinks and silverware.

He eyed the rubber band ball in his hand carefully. It was a tricky way of storing things, and not the best for long distance. Still, it would do the job. The colour of the bands and their position within the ball could easily be mapped to the mass of objects transfigured and their positions relative to one another. He thanked Dobby gratefully by conjuring him a new hat, a particularly festive one he'd seen briefly in Jamaica.

But as he bid goodbye an turned to leave, Dobby began to run towards him, "Wait, wait, Harry Potter must wait. There is another matter Dobby must come to Harry Potter about. A matter most urgent".

Harry paused, his interest piqeud.

Dobby continued, "But Dobby is busy right now. Winky need Dobby or she start drinky while working, Harry Potter come see Dobby again soon?"

Harry promised to come by as soon as he could.

He didn't much care for going back up the way he had come, the sloped walls of the Hospital Wing not nearly as attractive as on the way down. But, it was better than going past Madam Pomfrey and he didn't care to make the trek back into the castle.

It took him some difficulty to get back to the windowsill, given that any noise would most certainly end with Madam Promfrey sticking her head out the window. The gale wind of the Dark Lord that allowed for the true unaided flight would be useless here. Still, he made it back to find Ginny in almost the exact same position he'd left her in.

As he untrasnfigured the rubber band ball and went about setting up the breakfast, he offhandedly thought to check his timetable. With a wince he realized that he'd missed two classes already. While he didn't care about his classes in the long term, given that he wouldn't be staying to complete his OWLs, he had a few unrelated questions that he'd wanted to run past Professor Flitwick. While it wasn't the most pleasant thought, he might as well pick the brains of some of the most talented people in England while he still had the chance.

He woke his ex-girlfriend gently.

As he'd expected, Ginny had been overjoyed to find a warm breakfast waiting for her when she woke.

As they ate, they finally had a chance to properly catch up. Harry told Ginny just as much as he told Ron, with a few exceptions he'd prefer her not to know. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, her mouth munching distractedly at a sandwich as Harry finished his tale. He didn't need mind magic to practically feel the worry and sympathy radiating off her.

At a few points during his story, she'd nearly dropped her food or let out a scream, and once even hopped over to hug him, uncaring of her injured foot. He'd practiced this tale once already, and the lies were so finely intermingled with the truth that even he had trouble telling them apart.

Harry finished the rest of his milk, "So, that's pretty much what happened with me. And again, really Gin, I'm sorry that I didn't write or try to-"

Ginny waved away his worries, "It's not alright and you should have written but... I'll let it go this one time alright Just cause of everything you had going on."

As his shoulder sagged visibly in relief, she added, "But only if you promise me this never happens again, alright Harry?"

She looked him right in the eye as she asked her question, and Harry had the most peculiar feeling that she was using legilimency on him.

If he had ever made a promise he had wanted to keep more desperately than this one, he didn't remember it. She gave a thin smile at his answer.

Harry decided to change the topic, "Well, moving on, how was your summer?"

To someone who didn't know Ginny, her reaction would have been passed off as the minor movements of homeostasis, surely nothing suggestive of any intent to deceive. To someone who wasn't a legilimens, it would have been noted as a small permutation of the body in response to a question, a natural shudder anything could have provoked.

To Harry, it was a sign that something was amiss.

Still, no one had ever called Ginny a quiet girl, and Harry struggled to keep up as Ginny launched into the story of her summer.

"..you should see the parish of the Burrow Harry, it's a joke..."

"...it ended up with mum telling me to stop chopping down the trees in the backyard for wood. But I didn't want to bug Ron, and besides you know how many keys I had to make..."

"...and she just wouldn't leave me alone! I know mum's been lonely since Dad passed away but I can't memorize entire books if she's trying to take me to Diagon every day..."

"... three miracles tucked away in his attic, Harry. Three! One of them turned out to be a braille tome for 'Tears of Denial' though, it's pretty advanced, so Father Aylesbury just let me have it..."

"...and just kept doing those exercises Professor Dumbledore gave me. Eventually Fred and George helped me drag a big rock out to the middle of the lake and make it float, I think I spent half the summer trying to balance one foot on that stupid rock..."

Harry didn't consider himself a good listener.

"...and he still refuses to come back to the burrow. Ron just doesn't get it. He eats with us and comes over to spend time with mom, but he spent the whole summer high off his arse in that cabin in the woods..."

Far too many people had told him that he just didn't have the patience for it.

"...but luckily it was dark by the time he came creeping around. I missed George's ear by an inch. You should have seen the look on his face! But hey that doesn't mean my aim was off or anything.."

But for Ginny alone, he'd have sat through a hundred of these.

That's not to say he wasn't having a good time though. Ginny could talk for hours and hours if she felt like it, and the previous night's good mood still hadn't worn off yet. He'd missed her company so much that he truly didn't mind her monologuing. He'd peppered her with questions throughout, genuinely curious about how she'd spent her summer. It had been far too long since they had done this, just the two of them together. The monstrous mess his fourth year had turned into hadn't allowed for such niceties.

"...and thats when we finally noticed that Scabbers had been hiding in the oven the whole time! Mum nearly made him into a pie! Ron was so mad..."

The sacrifices last year had given him time. Time for moments like this, he thought, moments that made life worth living.

He shared a laugh with Ginny as she described how another Weasley mishap over the summer had nearly set the Burrow aflame. He really did love her he realized, and were it not for her and Ron, he'd have fled Hogwarts the moment Snape had left him alone. In the soft sunlight streaming in through the Hospital Wing window, just them alone under the privacy of a room, he couldn't help but lend every part of his brain towards appreciating just how beautiful she was.

And yet...

No power came without a price, and so to did no magic come into being in absentia. No matter how hard he tried, his mind magic would not let him forget the memory of his conversation with Fred and George. The knowledge of Ginny's peculiar visit, torn from George's mind.

A visit she hadn't seen fit to mention yet. At all.

As she continued to prattle on about her mother's attempt to get the family involved in kite-flying, Harry withdrew into his thoughts, his unconscious mind surfacing as his eyes glazed over.

He considered what he knew. Snape and her local priest had come to the burrow for a visit, sometime in the middle of the summer. The twins had not been home when Snape had come knocking, but Ron had been at the burrow. He kicked himself for not having gone and seen Ron first. Still, Ron had told the twins that they'd come to discuss some scholarship funded by the church with Mrs. Weasley. He'd never heard of anything of the sort, but he'd also been one to sleep through Theology class.

Ginny broke his thoughts by asking him a question. His legilimency had begun working the moment it had realized the inquisitive nature of her tone, springing into action before she had even finished talking. In an instant he had emerged from the sea of his mind, his unconscious giving him both her question and his answer.

"It really wasn't smart of you to do that to Ron's room, especially if you guys actually want him to come back. I think that maybe he'd be more willing to think about it if you hadn't turned his room into a seminary", his tone dripping with sarcasm.

He shook his head as Ginny began to blame her Mum for letting her do it in her first place. He couldn't keep the smile off his face as she launched into a story of how Ron had once set up a shrine to the Chudley Cannons in the dining room. She really was a handful, he thought as he submerged deep in the recesses of hid mind once more.

Ron really was the key. Ginny had left out her meeting with Snape and Father Aylesbury for a reason. She clearly wasn't holding back on the stories right now, and its continued absence only added to her guilt. A few other things didn't add up either. Her exceptional progress, as Snape had put it, over this summer just wasn't normal. From what she'd told him, she'd dedicated herself to prayer and practice.

She had heaped praise on the few simple techniques Dumbledore had written down for her at the end of the last year, but those didn't explain it either. There'd been a peculiar moment in the conversation though, when she'd brought up how useful an old edition of 'Advanced Liturgical Ceremony had been. When Harry had asked why she hadn't bought the latest version, she let slip that it had been a present from Snape, his own copy from when he had been a student of Hogwarts.

He'd not missed the evasiveness in her eyes as she realized what she'd inadvertently said. Nor did he miss her haste to change the topic. Another of the benefits that came with being an occlumens was his perfect memory, and he had no recollection of Ginny receiving such a present from Snape last year.

Which left only one solution. His conversation with the twins and her loose tongue were enough evidence that such a meeting had taken place. But as Ginny continued to blab, obvious to the war of emotions taking place just beneath the face veneer of his skin, he couldn't bring himself to interrupt her. He couldn't bring himself to spoil the moment.

The sun was just too warm. Their bellies were just too full. They'd both missed all their classes today and didn't care one bit. Despite the fact that their little date had stretched into the afternoon, no elderly matron had come knocking on their door. In just this moment that seemed to live forever, Harry couldn't bring himself to do it. In this he was resolved. His magic felt oddly comfortable with his decision, his churning emotions disappearing into the corners of his mind. He took a deep breath and relaxed, just letting her voice full his lungs.

No, he wouldn't spoil this moment by calling her out on her secrets. No matter the potential danger that lay behind them. Red eyes and an invulnerable journal threatened to linger in the back of his mind, but the melody of Ginny's summer drove them away.

Unconscious and conscious mind reunited, Harry rising back to the fore. With a start, he realized that the two had never truly separated in the first place, all his legilimency unable to fully tear his attention away from Ginny.

He'd never seen anything more beautiful than the afternoon sun shining in her eyes, he thought wistfully.

He would truly kill the man who tried to break this moment.

In the end, it had been Ginny herself who brought an end their little pseudo-date.

"I know, I know, Harry, but I have to go to Theology, and Madam Pomfrey says my foot is all fine now," said Ginny, gingerly putting some weight on her previously injured foot.

Harry raised an eyebrow in response, "She also said that you should probably skip class today and stay off it as much as you can."

Ginny didn't seem to have heard him, instead running her fingers over a colourful piece of parchment Harry had made for her, "So, this should be able to hold up to two thousand? Really?"

Harry nodded, pointing to the bottom of the page he replied, "Around two thousand yeah. It's a totally different storage seal from last time, even though it might look kinda similar. I also added an alert charm to warn you if you fall under a hundred keys."

Just as he was about to launch into a small lecture on the differences between the old Heimleinian Space-Time Seals and the new Type-X Seals, Ginny's face launched up to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Harry thank you so much. This is super useful. I still can't get my seals to go above three hundred and they take forever to make," her eyes twinkling as Harry ran his fingers through her hair.

Before he could reply, Ginny seemed to suddenly remember something, "Oh Harry thats right, can you help me out with something else? Is there a way to make these seals faster?"

Harry worked his fingers through her scalp, unsure of what she meant, "What do you mean faster?"

Ginny looked up with big brown eyes, "I mean is there any way to make the keys come out of the seal faster when I need them?"

Harry was slightly surprised by the strange question, "Well, not really. None that I can think of at least. A storage seal is a storage seal, y'know. Don't the keys just come out instantly anyway?"

Ginny shook her head from side to side, playfully trying to throw off his fingers as she did, "Nuh uh! They take forever Harry! It takes like 0.3 seconds for the key to even hit my hand and-"

"0.3 seconds is forever?", Harry asked sarcastically.

She didn't seem to like his joke, "I'm serious Harry. I can like prepare and throw a key in around half a second now. And-"

Harry whistled in appreciation. She squired happily under his petting.

"And I can throw a full hand in around 1.4ish seconds. The problem is that it takes forever for the dumb keys to land in my hand. Is there anyway to make them come out faster?" she finished, her eyes brimming with hope.

Harry hated to shut her down, "Ah damn Gin, I'll give it a look yeah but... I don't think so. See, the time that the key takes to get into your hand after you activate the seal, that time isn't actually the time it takes from the key to move over from inside the seal to out here".

He used his free hand to gesture to the strange marks all over the parchment he had made her, "Like, that 0.3 seconds is the time it takes for your magic to hit the seal. There's actually zero delay in real time when you use a storage seal, cause the thing actually does appear instantly. The delay is from your magic and the distance to the seal and-"

"But I'm always touching the seal, there's no distance to cover," she complained, "Harryyy, isn't there anything you can do?"

She blinked so sweetly as she finished her sentence that the answer had leapt from Harry's mouth before he'd even thought about it.

"Sure, I'll give it a look. Don't worry your pretty little head, can't be that hard right?"

He would come to regret those words.

But right now, almost nothing could have brought him more joy than watching Ginny light up from hearing his words. She jumped up to give him a hug, another kiss coming down squarely over his ear. He playfully shoved her away when she bit his earlobe.

As he helped Ginny by shrinking down her things into a small box that would automatically untransfigure itself at midnight, Harry couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss as their little moment came to an end. Ginny was dead set on not missing the rest of her classes for the day and nothing Harry said could dissuade her.

"You're going to class too right Harry? Now that you're back and everything, you have to take class seriously. You have your OWLs coming up Harry. Just leave last year in last year, okay?"

For her smile, Harry would have told any lie. Nonetheless, he wondered how she managed to trick herself into thinking that Harry was going to his Herbology class. Yeah right, Harry had some bigger problems to deal with. A best friend that needed him, two other friends that were secretly practicing heresy, Malfoy doing something, a whole bag of profane magic just lying somewhere in the deep dungeons and *two* Dead Apostle Ancestors to hunt.

Even though he had no plans to go to class, he had hoped that the relative proximity of the Greenhouse and the Chapel meant that Ginny would have let him walk her to class. After a whole minute of screeches and shouts of 'I'm a big girl!', Harry had acquiesced to her demands. He still made sure to charm all her things to follow her to class so she wouldn't have to carry them himself.

As they left the Hospital Wing and bid each other goodbye, Harry went in the opposite direction. But, before he had gotten a chance so so much take a turn, Ginny's voice rang out in the empty hallway.

"Harry wait!"

And Ginny came running over.

"Hey so, I almost forgot but the first Hogsmeade weekend is coming up. I was thinking that maybe we should go together, like old times?" her voice was so shy and sweet that Harry almost picked her up right there and then.

He laughed, "Gin, don't be silly. I can take you to Hogsmeade anytime, we're not twelve anymore. Hell, if you want we can go right now and-"

Ginny seemed annoyed by his answer, "No Harry, I meant actually going to Hogsmeade. Like with everyone else and not having to hide and everything. You know, a proper date?"

It took a moment for the implications to hit him.

"Oh! Shit yeah- I mean, of course. We'll definitely go. Just like old times yeah?" he replied, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. He tried his best to disguise the eagerness in his voice.

Ginny smiled and turned with a twirl, her hair spinning about her as she made her way down the hall.

Harry watched her go, occlumency alone disguising the churning sea of emotions within him.

He shook his head and began to walk. He needed to see Ron.

\- Post automerged -

Author's Note 3: Before you guys get into the rest of this chapter, I just wanted to say a few things. First up, this is the first scene in this whole thing that I'm actually proud of. Ye, ofc it's littered with grammar issues and bad composition, but there's nothing wrong IMO except for technical execution. That's because I gave this thread ( threads/writing-advice-and-resource-thread.37586/) a long and hard look. This thread is just great, and it doesn't matter whether you're an author balls deep in this or just someone that likes to read every now and then. Srsly just fukken read it. Yes, the whole thing.

A big shoutout to Halt for blowing my mind.

Author's Note 4: It also would help, when it comes to smoothly understanding the writing, to know some basic Type-Moon stuff. In the interest of that, here's a small document that goes into a fair bit of depth about what an 'Origin' is within that universe. You don't have to read the whole thing, just give it a glance if you feel like it. While the story works without you knowing this, it saves me a lot of trouble if you do. ( post/100400275992/todays-subject-origin-others)

Chapter Five (2/2): The Maiden in the the Tower, the Dragon above, and the Knight racing below.

Harry tapped his foot repeatedly outside the entrance to the Room of Requirement. He had a problem.

Even at this time of day, the emerald light burning forth from his eyes cast a bright glow on the grey stone of Hogwarts. He had sped through the halls of the castle, silent and invisible, with his robes and legs transfigured into the grey vortex he'd grown so comfortable with. His morning with Ginny had left him in a strange mood, and he had no desire to walk through the halls with everyone gaping at him.

He had never been foolish enough to cast the flight spell in the bursting halls of the castle during the day, but he had changed greatly from the last time he had been in Hogwarts. He had simply flipped upside down onto the ceilings, propelling himself silently and swiftly above the mass of students rushing about to their classes. It was an exceptionally wasteful way to get around the castle, but Harry didn't particularly care

He needed to talk to Ron.

And now he had a problem magic couldn't solve. His eyes faded back to their normal green as his brow furrowed. Ron wasn't alone. He had felt the presence of a foreign magic in the Room of Requirement the moment his feet had touched the ground. It had only taken a second for his eyes to tear through the veil that separated the Room from the rest of the hallway. By their very nature, mystic eyes could not be fooled any illusion.

He licked his lips as he thought about going in there anyway. His eyes had revealed the presence of at least one person in the Room apart from Ron. The traces he'd seen had seemed familiar, but through the waterfall of magic that separated the Room from reality, he couldn't have identified them if his life had depended on it.

His impatience ground to an end, and he walked past the false wall thrice.

'*I seek the place where all my troubles melt away*'

He stepped into Ron's little palace, his nose immediately crinkling at the thick odour of hash in the air. Harry was quick to close the door behind him, to keep the smell in the Room. He turned around to admire how the extraordinary amount of purple smoke in the room seemed to paint Ron's perpetual sunlight a deep maroon.

Even for Ron, this was an insane amount. Either the Room's ventilatory capabilities had not been able to keep up with Ron...

"Harry!", he hear Ron shout, "Mate you're just in time!"

...Or Ron had turned them off on purpose.

In the centre of the room, Ron stood from his pile of beanbags. Harry noticed three other people sitting around near him, briefly recognizing Lavender Brown in what looked to be a t-shirt three sizes too small. He squinted, trying to make out the faces of the other two through the haze of purple smoke that seemed most concentrated around where they were. Someone with worse eyesight might have missed the little cluster of people in the middle entirely.

Ron had already run up to him, "Mate the hell have you been! I can't believe you missed last night. Shit, come on man I got some people who wanted to meet you."

Without waiting for him to say a word, Ron grabbed him by the hand and led him to the epicentre of the veritable purple cloud that hung in the room.

Harry exchanged greetings with Lavender and the two strangers, a boy and a girl. He squinted through the haze, a memory tugging away at him somewhere. He thought he recognized the boy briefly. Without delay he plopped down right on the empty bag next to Ron.

Lavender was the first to greet him, "I'm so sorry I missed your little welcoming feast, but I had detention that night".

Ron waved her off, "Don't worry Lav, I already mentioned it to Harry. Anyway mate this is Sophie, she's in our year in Hufflepuff-"

Sophie interrupted him, and Harry suddenly realized that she had been holding a joint this whole time, "Its real nice to meet you. We heard lots from Ron."

"-and this is Steve, he's in our year too. Clever chap, fun to smoke up with if you can get him to take his head out of Flitwick's arse."

Steve laughed the hardest at Ron's joke, looking to Harry, "Actually we've met before. Last year we were-"

The memory hit him and Harry blurted out, "We got paired up in Advanced Charms during the Yule Ball preparations! I remember you, didn't Lisa Turpin almost drop the chandelier on you?"

Sophie snorted as she took a hit, nearly coughing as she tried to hold in her laughter, "You never told us that one before."

Steve didn't have the sense to look ashamed, "Well, thats not something I want to remember to be honest. Man, I got so pissed at Turpin after that-"

Lavender pitched in, and Harry couldn't help but notice just how red in the face she was, "Oh my god! Is that what happened between you two! You're such a liar, I heard that she tried to throw something on you because-"

"Hey now!" said Steve, "Let's change the topic back to Harry here. Where were you last night eh?"

Lavender seemed about to continue, but she was happy with Steve's peace offering of a joint instead. Taking it and falling back onto her plush armchair.

Harry looked around the room, "Hell, I got stuck with some work after Ron ditched me. You guys have been at it all morning though huh?"

As he gestured to the small army of rolled cigarettes levitating in the air, Ron gave him an answer, "You bet mate. It's fucking Friday man, finally. Weekends here and we can take a fucking break."

Lavender bobbed her head up and down enthusiastically, "I just came by to pick up my notes from Ron this morning and found these three here. I only had two classes so I thought I might as well stay."

Harry elbowed Ron, "How long have you guys been smoking up this room mate? And why isn't the air working?"

Ron passed him a lit joint, taking one for himself, "Mate shit I've been here since last night. Steve and Sophie stayed over after the party ended cause they didn't have class today we've just been smoking since. Fuck, Sophie tell him about last night".

As he inhaled deeply, Harry took a puff from his own as Sophie began to speak, "Oh it was crazy. Ron knows this Room like no one else. When we all got here there was a sign outside on the wall telling us to wait, and like there was thirty of us at least just standing outside in the corridor."

Steve took over as Sophie paused to inhale,"And then Ron just comes running out saying its not ready and that he needs time and stuff, and Nott starts trying to pick a fight with him but Ron just runs back inside."

Her arm wrapped around Ron's, Lavender said, "And then we're all just waiting for Ron to come out and I swear we all hear Mrs. Norris down the corridor and start panicking. I kid you not Justin and Terry actually ran away two seconds before Ron came out and practically threw us all in. And it was insane inside-"

Sophie made a noise of agreement, "Fuck there's actually no substitute for not seeing it yourself. Like Ron, how did you get the Room to do that?"

Ron seemed to preen under their combined praise, and Harry's legilimency noticed how he took a deep toke from his joint, taking in more air so that he could talk longer. A strange sense of dissatisfaction came over him. This wasn't the best company for Ron to be in.

Ron didn't take a moment before launching into it, "There's actually nothing to it. Like I keep telling you guys the first thing you gotta get before you can do cool shit with this place, is that this place isn't even real. Like mate, we're all actually in a closet right now pushed up against each other. Or like we could be at the bottom of the ocean and it doesn't matter. Like the room can't make you hash or food or water but it can do literally anything else. It's like the rooms a- Uh, like it's a... Fuck, what's the word Harry?"

"An illusion," Harry finished for him, completing Hermione's theory of the Room of Requirement. If only she had been around last year, he thought sadly, she could have seen her theories proven through emerald eyes.

"Wow", Lavender whispered, her eyes wide, "Did you figure that out cause of the Cassandra thing?"

A spike or surprise drove through Harry as he struggled not to turn towards Lavender in shock. He knew that Ron had told her about the nature of his Origin but to mention it so casually with other people around was almost incomprehensible last year!

And yet, he felt no emotional disturbance in Ron. He seemed calm, relaxed even as he replied, "Nah, it wasn't me that figured that out. An old friend of ours realized it. I just realized that if you know the Room isn't actually there, and like if you know that you aren't actually there either, then you can do whatever you want with those two things."

"What can we expect tonight then mate? It's Friday bro, you better have something that-"

Ron cut Steve off with a sharp wave, "You guys fucking see what I have planned for tonight! You're gonna lose your shit, if you thought that last night was good that ain't nothing compared to this."

Sophie seemed pleased by his answer, "Oh man. I heard that Draco was so salty about not getting an invite to your thing last night that he stayed out all night anyway and pretended he had something else to go to. That greasy git is going to be so mad when Pansy decides to ditch him again tonight."

The conversation continued in the same vein. Gossip and joints traded hands as Harry tried to relax. The purple haze felt good in his lungs, and even better in his mind. Ron bought his hash from the weird guy that once got arrested for Public Nudity behind Zonkos, but he'd be damned if it wasn't good hash. Sophie and Steve were fun to be around, and they didn't seem to mind his 'Boy-Who-Lived' tripe either. He was surprised that he had never run into the two of them before, given how genuinely pleasant they were.

An annoying squeal tore him from his comfortable thoughts.

Lavender on the other hand was another matter. Harry eyed the girl with distaste. She'd been the first girl to attach herself to Ron when his potential had become clear. Back when they had been lonely thirteen year olds, two boys who'd just lost their only female friend, Lavender had stepped in to try and fill the void. He had always resented her a little bit for trying to replace Hermione, but Ron was immensely fond of her.

He just hoped that they weren't dating. Ron could have done much, much better.

And yet, his mind magic would not leave him be. The purple smoke he'd so vigorously pumped into his lungs dulled his mind, body and soul. His magic would, consequently, be brought to a more calm state in turn. However, the magic of a magus was not so easily influenced. Wizards and witches would let their bodies intermingle with the lovely chemicals they took to make themselves feel better. A magus was different, their magic constantly burning throughout their very being.

And a magus who was an occlumens? Such an existence would live on the very edge of human and robot. Their thoughts would constantly churn into a precise field of actions that they *must* do in order to relive themselves of their anxieties.

All the hash in the world, and indeed Ron mayhaps lay claim to such a record, couldn't have stopped his mind magic from bringing dark thoughts to the forefront. Memories of a bag of terrible magic somewhere deep below him. Memories of two friends with a massive bag of gold and not nearly enough sense to go with it. Memories of a Princess with icy blond hair imprisoned light years away. Memories of immortals to hunt, an escape to plan and a past to leave behind.

And most of all, memories of a girl who felt like soft marble. A girl of little zealotry but great faith, whose hands moved as fast as lightning.

He felt like he was going crazy, cooped up in the Room with two strangers and a girl he didn't care for. He'd waited patiently but his patience had hit its limit. Harry looked Ron in the eyes as he continued to tell some story about an Augurey he had run into in Diagon Alley. In an instant, he was in Ron's mind.

"... and then Seamus just fell over, right into Fortescue's stand. You should have seen his face when-"

Harry's voice cut through Ron's mind like a knife through butter.

'*Need to talk. Important. Can't wait*'

Ron had immediately stopped talking, his eyes falling squarely on Harry.

"Ah shit", Ron said getting up quickly, "Sorry guys, I just remembered that I had to fuckin' give Harry back his broom. Left it in the damn Owlery. Fuck mate my bad-"

Harry joined him, leaving his near untouched joint on the grass floor. "Took you long enough to remember mate. You wanna go grab it now?"

Ron nodded before giving Steve a fist bump and whispering something in Lavender's ear. He grabbed a random robe lying on the ground, searching around for his wand as Harry waited. Without any further delay, he motioned to Harry and they began to walk to the door. Ron snatched a handful of levitating purple cigarettes out of the air, shoving them into his pocket as they entered the hallway.

"What's all this about mate?" Ron asked, casting a quick charm to try and suppress the odour of hash that clung tightly to him.

Harry let his shoulders droop down as he let his concern show. "Fuck mate I don't know where to start. Listen, I got to talk to you. For starters, there's someone digging around the entrance-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down mate", Ron interrupted, "Not here man. You wanna go for a fly or something?"

Harry shook his head, he didn't particularly feel like trying to balance on a stupid stick, hundreds of feet in the air, while Ron sped circles around him. But Ron continued to protest.

"Oh come on mate, just down to the Owlery yeah? You can show me how much better you got with that fancy smoke spell", Ron said, the whine in his voice giving Harry a slight headache.

"Alright fine", Harry acquiesced, "Just quickly down to the Owlery. We can't talk here anyway."

With that, Ron gave him a smile and began to walk away from him towards the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

"How're you doing Barney?" Ron asked, gently waking the sleeping portrait.

Barnabas shot awake with a loud scream, despite how quiet Ron's voice had been. As Ron desperately tried to shush him, Harry spared a glance down the hallway. It was just about lunch time and the castle would have been packed. If anyone heard Barnabas' shouting and came to investigate, the strong stench of hash Ron took with him everywhere might have given them trouble.

Thankfully, the mad painting seemed to calm down as he recognized Ron, "Oh! Mr. Weasley I thought you were a troll! Good ta see you, how've you been doing? I suppose you'll be wanting your things lad?"

Harry raised an eyebrow as Ron nodded his head, and raised it further still as the tapestry suddenly began to roll up towards the roof. There was a large hole in the wall that seemed to have been carved into the stone by some magical attack. As Ron reached in and retrieved his broom, Harry noticed how the large crack seemed to penetrate the wall like a spiderweb. Similar to how a bolt of lightning might have struck.

He voiced his thoughts as Ron approached. "I didn't know there was a space behind Barnabas. How'd you find that one?"

Ron slung his broom over his shoulder as they walked towards the nearest window. "Funny story there. Last week, few days after we all got back, I tried to get into the Room but couldn't. Ended up talking to Barney and finding out he's not all that bad. He's barmy yeah but who isn't around here?"

Harry couldn't argue with that. Still, the scar in the wall had made him wonder. He voiced his thoughts while Ron unlatched the window.

"That big hole behind the tapestry, did Barnabas tell you what caused that?"

Ron simply shook his head. He looked out into the distance, trying to spot the Owlery down below. "Alright mate just a straight race to the tower yeah? Unless you wanna go around the lake and-"

Harry interrupted him by launching himself out the window so hard he threw Ron back a good foot, a loud boom filling the corridor. The windows thrashed madly as Harry thrust himself into the clear blue sky. He spared a quick glance behind him as he fled deeper into the air, happy to see Ron's shellshocked expression as he still lingered by the window. Yeah right, like he wasn't going to take the head start. He needed all the help he could get keeping up with Ron's speed.

"Harry you piece of shit!"

Harry heard the whoosh of Ron's broom taking off into the air. Harry had elected to shoot upwards into the sky, a choice necessitated by his means of flight. He didn't need to look behind him to see Ron, who had shot forward like a bullet towards the Owlery tower. Ron had a smaller distance to cover, and a faster way of doing it, but he didn't have Harry's versatility.

With a start, Harry crossed his elbows in front of his chest and threw them back as hard as he could. The wind wind cut across his face and would have torn his glasses right off had they not been charmed. The vapour trail at his feet burned brightly as bright red fire replaced the normal plumes of dark smoke. Harry grit his teeth as the magic forced his forward momentum down to his feet. The heavy deceleration burned hot against his skin and robes, the air heating up as Harry pushed the limits of his wand. For all his faults, the Dark Lord had been a true genius, and Harry struggled to overlay the Combustion Modifier to the already difficult flight spell. However, all his training had not been for nothing, and he angled his head sharply downward as he approached the apex of his leap.

While Ron had elected to fly, Harry had chosen to effectively jump. The flames at his feet turned into a smokey explosion that churned brighter and brighter as Harry began to come down towards the tower. He saw Ron under him, his broom leaving a bright trail as Ron desperately tried to overtake Harry. Then, the explosions at his feet began to intensify, a hundred feet above Hogwarts castle a sudden fear came over Harry.

He began to disentangle the spell as fast as he could, noticing that the flames over seemed to be increasing in potency. His mind went blank as occlumency kicked in on instinct. Time itself seemed to slow down as Harry worked his way backwards, countering magic with magic as he struggled to hold the fire from imploding in on itself. He fell in slow motion, Ron nothing but a tiny blip below him moving slowly like an ant. He felt his eyes come alive as the word slowed to a crawl. He quietly thanked the Princess for her training. He wouldn't have survived this foolish use of magic otherwise.

It lasted a only a second, the wind returning to scream in his face as his eyes returned to normal. He felt the heat die down in his legs and they churned violently, the former plumes of black smoke reemerging.

By the time he landed on the balcony, Ron was already waiting for him. Harry noticed with some annoyance that Ron had already somehow smoked a quarter of a joint.

"Jesus mate that was some nice speed you picked up there. Couldn't keep it up eh?" Ron's tone was dripping with sarcasm.

Harry wiped the sweat from his brow and eyed Ron distastefully. "I've told you and Ginny a fucking hundred times, it's not a spell meant to compete with a broom. Do you realize what I almost did up there? The only time this spell is designed to go fast is when the Dark Lord decided he really wanted to feel like a muggle missile."

Ron gave him a raised eyebrow and held out a joint. "Listen mate, why don't you just stop whining, take this and tell me why we're out here?"

Harry took the proffered cigarette gratefully, leaning his back against the walls of the Owlery. They had both landed on one of the strange secluded balconies that littered the upper floors of the tower. Reachable only by flight, students over the ages had committed all sorts of depravities here. Harry wasn't fond of this place, but was just glad he hadn't stepped on a condom this time.

He lit his cigarette without using his wand, the simple magic now a casual thing. He inhaled deeply and turned to Ron. "Fuck, like I said mate, don't really know where to start."

Ron eyed him carefully, and it was in these times that Harry truly came to appreciate his friend's emotional intelligence. "Alright no worries, why don't you tell me about what's bothering you the most and we work backwards from there."

Harry took a deep inhale and gave his friend a smile. "Well, the thing that's honestly bugging me the most is Ginny. So, we talked-"

"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed. "Mate are you serious? I thought something real was going down. You dragged me out here for this? Fuck, Steve was about to leave Harry! I was going to try and talk Sophie and Lav into a-"

Harry interrupted him angrily, "Fucking hell Ron I am being serious. I'm not just shitting around all day, there's something up with Ginny, and you know I'm not wrong."

Ron held up his hands defensively, a little worry in his eyes. "Calm down mate, I didn't mean it like that. It's just... Well, I mean it's Ginny yea? What exactly is-"

"Why didn't you tell me about the fact that Snape came over to the burrow during the summer. And you were there when he came over", Harry said.

Ron seemed to freeze, every muscle coming to a halt. As Harry desperately resisted the urge to use legilimency, Ron took a toke from his joint and turned to Harry, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Shit, sorry about that mate. Yeah, I left that out. Listen, Ginny asked me to. Said she didn't want to tell anyone until it was final and I didn't think it was a big deal-"

Harry couldn't help but take his frustrations out on Ron. "Snape coming over to the Burrow isn't a big deal? Fucking Snape Ron?"

Ron looked guilty as he conceded to Harry's point. "I know, I know mate. When the greasy git showed up at the house I thought I was in the middle of some weird nightmare or something but... Look, Ginny asked me not to tell anyone until it was confirmed. And like, she specifically told me not to tell you about it."

Harry really was getting annoyed that Ron just wasn't getting to the point. "Tell me what what until it was confirmed?"

"Well, I don't know what it is exactly but Snape and Father Aylesbury just showed up one day in July. I actually answered the door, nearly crapped my pants when I saw the git's face on the other end. After that they had tea with mum and Ginny for like an hour. I went home in the middle", Ron replied.

He took another hit from his cigarette, blowing hazy purple smoke into the wind. "After that I came back later for dinner. Ginny was jumping up all over the place mate, you should've seen her. I hadn't seen her that happy in a while. She couldn't even sit down to tell me what Snape had come for. Mum filled me in, said it was some huge church scholarship. British kids almost never get it or something. Apparently it was a big deal."

Harry furrowed his brow. "I've never heard of any scholarship like that? Did your mom tell you why Father Aylesbury came along? Or when it'd get confirmed?"

Ron shook his head. He raised an eyebrow and spoke carefully, "Nah mate. Ginny grabbed me, told me not to tell anyone, especially you, until it got confirmed. I'm guessing she just wanted to surprise everyone, you most of all. Hell, you know how much she looks up to you."

Ron always had a way of quelling Harry's anger, and the potent mix in his cigarette wasn't too bad either. Still, the whole situation nagged at him.

"Mate, it's not just that", Harry replied, "She got crazy good with her Black Keys over the summer. Crazy good Ron, like inhumanly good. And from-"

Ron laughed. "Is that what's bugging you mate? She trained her ass off this summer she did. Go ask her about that stuff, she doesn't shut up about it."

Harry shook his head. "It's not that Ron. No matter how hard she could have trained, or how much time she spent praying, you can't just learn that shit in three months. Look, even the best executors of the Church, the best of the best, can only hold four black keys alright. Ginny can hold three, what does that tell you?"

Ron snorted, purple smoke poofing out of his nostrils. "It tells me that she's probably gonna get that scholarship. I didn't know it was that special. I mean, I've seen people in Diagon Alley do crazier shit but what do I know."

Harry was a little surprised by Ron's remark. Just how little had Ginny told him? Or maybe he hadn't bothered to learn. He spoke slowly, "Ron, that shit Ginny's doing. Yeah she's just making and throwing a knife but, you realize there's no magic in there right? Like, none. Even a muggle could do it."

Ron's eyes widened as a smile came over his mouth. "You're shitting me! Fuck that is impressive mate. No wonder Snape decided to come all the way down, bet he wants to make his name as the guy that discovered Ginny. How do you even do that shit without magic?"

He didn't hear Ron, his mind spilling out anxieties and worries. "Fuck mate, it just doesn't add up. How did she manage to pull it off so quickly? Ron, mate in the last fifty years I can only think of one dude who pulled that shit off at the same age."

He paused, looking Ron right in the eye. "One dude that later went on to become a cardinal and get excommunicated."

Ron paled instantly, not missing the reference to the omnipresent threat that had dominated the last quarter century. "No, no mate listen. You got it all wrong, it can't be. You're just-"

"Why not?" Harry pleaded, he really did want Ron to put his mind to ease.

"For fuck's sake Harry it's the church!" Ron exploded, his arms waving about. "The church Harry, you think they'd let that shit fly? If she was still- No, if she had ever been... If there had been anything to worry about on that end then we could have caught it a long time ago. That's why Dumbledore put her there!"

Before Harry could reply, Ron's hand came down on his shoulder and he blew a plume of purple smoke right into Harry's face. "Mate, listen, I think you got some other shit worrying you. I mean for fuck's sake it's you and Ginny. Come here, lets sit down."

Ron pulled him towards the edge of the balcony on the inside of the tower. The floors were filthy, dried bird shit being the least of his worries as Ron pulled him to the ground. He felt strange, like he was watching the scene from far away. Ron's hand on his arm felt like the touch of a ghost, and his head was spinning.

His mind magic was falling prey to his internal anxieties.

"Here mate", Ron said, handing him another joint, "You look like you need this."

Harry took it without a word, lighting it the moment it touched his mouth. He hadn't even realized that he had dropped his last one. Or maybe he had finished it?

Ron sat down opposite him watching him smoke. He had a wise look on his face that seemed out of place on such a young man, and his bright blue eyes briefly cast a shadow on his face that made him look like Dumbledore for a moment.

His voice was quiet as he spoke, "Mate, after last year, after you and Ginny ended shit, I always thought that you guys were gonna get back together the moment we got back to Hogwarts. Hell, you could've come to the Burrow and stayed with me and I guarantee you'd have been hitched already but..."

He looked harry straight in the eyes, and Harry struggled a little under the intensity of his gaze. "But you pretty much vanished on us. After everything that happened, I mean I sure as hell wasn't equipped to deal with all of my own shit, forget Ginny's. She took those exercises Dumbledore gave her to crazy levels man. I'd find her out in the lake trying not too fall off her little rock in the middle of a storm!"

His hand came down firmly on Harry's shoulder, and Harry felt a strange spike of guilt tear through him. "You weren't there mate, so she used what she had. And if all she was a couple of old books and some dumb exercises from Dumbledore, then that's what she did. Mate, Ginny's not the one being weird here. You are."

He finished his monologue by putting his joint out on the floor, and in the ensuing quiet of the Owlery Harry could have sworn that Ron had shushed even the owls into silence. His mental magic thrashed in his head, like instruments playing in Ron's orchestra.

Ron threw back his head as he seemingly produced another joint, already lit, and began to talk, "Fuck mate! It's not even that. Sometimes I wonder how you top the class when you're such an idiot."

Harry didn't mind Ron's remark. His curiosity only grew as Ron took a deep puff, and he couldn't stop from trying to hurry him. "What's thats supposed to mean?"

Ron looked at him carefully, and Harry had the feeling that he was being treated at like a fish in the market. "Listen mate, we're good friends. Fuck, we're brothers yeah?"

Harry was surprised by the question, but didn't have a moment's hesitation. "Yeah, of course. Shit I mean, always yeah."

Ron nodded. "That's why I'm gonna say this, cause I think you need to hear it mate. Harry, you know why I'm not jealous of you?"

The question broke into his thoughts like a truck smashing through a window. He was utterly speechless, not having expected the question in the least.

Ron didn't seem to have meant for him to answer, continuing, "I mean, you're Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. You got all the bitches going crazy about you. Fuck even Gin wouldn't shut up about you before Hogwarts. You're rich, you're jacked and you're fucking smart. Fuck mate you're not just smart, but you're fucking talented as hell. Shit I've seen you do things with a wand that-"

"Not that I don't mind the free hand job", Harry cut in, his voice joking but quiet, "But what're you trying to say?"

Ron gave him the finger for interrupting him, but continued otherwise without pause, "It wasn't that I was always chill with it. Fuck, I used to be pretty jealous of you mate. You know that. You might not have said it but you know that. You remember the day that all changed?"

Harry wondered where Ron was coming from, or how this all related to his issues with Ginny, as he shook his head.

"The day we cracked the code to the Chamber of Secrets. The day Ginny got 'taken' in there and you, me and Hermione decided to fuck it and just go in ourselves."

Ron shook his head slightly as he recalled the memory. Harry noticed the faraway look in his eyes and wondered what it was.

"Fuck, I still shit my pants thinking about it. My fucking leg's broken and Hermione's just fucking crying over me. Jesus fuck man, I remember Ginny on the floor and Riddle and you talking. The rest of us, me, Ginny and Hermione, we just fucking shut down right there and then. But you mate..."

Ron took a deep toke and looked at Harry with something akin to awe, "You fucking didn't give two shits about Riddle or the fact that he had your wand or that Ginny was just lying there, dying. Nah, you fucking took on Riddle's massive death monster... Jesus mate. I don't even remember the fight. I remember seeing that fucking giant snake, and, fun fact, I actually did shit my pants right there and then."

Harry couldn't have stopped the laughs from leaping fro his mouth had he tried. "You never told me that", he said softly.

Ron waved him off, ignoring his comment. "I don't remember the fucking fight cause the last thing I got to see was you shouting at us to close our eyes. Then I remember Hermione crying and praying over and over again on top of me. Riddle fucking screaming and then... whoosh! Fuck, I heard that snake scream when you killed it Harry. You fucking called down a Phoenix to drop you a hat and then killed a fucking Basilisk to save my sister. With a fucking sword!"

Harry was shocked at the sheer awe in Ron's voice. He remembered it all going down very, very differently. He had actually soiled his pants during the encounter as well, but the urine had been easy to hide. Still, it had gone down nothing like Ron had said... Was that really how people saw him?

"With a fucking sword", Ron repeated, "Jesus mate don't you see it?"

Harry couldn't stand it anymore. No, he did not get it. Not one bit. He voiced his confusion, "No Ron I don't. How does this relate to Ginny or-"

"You're such a fucking retard Harry", Ron said flatly, squarely shutting him up.

He exhaled directly towards Harry's face. "Mate, I know you're muggle-raised and your brain works different, but it's not so simple. Harry, listen to what I'm saying. The fucking Twelfth Dead Apostle Ancestor, the fucking Heir of Slytherin, took control of my baby sister and took her down to the Chamber of Secrets, where he was going to use her to come back from the dead. You with me so far?"

Ron continued without giving him a moment to reply, "Then, there you are. The fucking Boy-Who-Lived. Your friends are fucking useless, crying in the corner while Lord Voldemort takes your wand and decides to fuck you with a fucking hundred foot long snake that kills you if you look at it! And what do you do? You summon a Phoenix, somehow pull the Sword of Gryffindor out of your ass and kill it! A twelve year old boy slaying a Basilisk with a sword!"

Harry really remembered it differently, "Jesus Ron, you can stop sucking me off now mate. Fawkes did all the work. Shit, I crapped my pants too Ron. I'm not any different from-"

"But you are mate!" Ron interrupted, his eyes wildly alight, "Harry don't you see, you're the fucking chosen one or whatever mate. You know those old stories of knights saving the princess from the tower guarded by the dragon? Harry, that's not just some kids bedtime story, it's real. Old magic mate, way older than you think. You fucked the Heir of Slytherin and killed a Basilisk with the sword of Gryffindor to save Ginny, and I don't know what that means or anything, but it sure as hell doesn't mean nothing! That is when I realized that, yeah it might have looked like you had a good deal, but man Harry I would not want to be in your shoes mate. Nah, couldn't handle your life at all."

Old magic. Ron's words seem to stick in his ears. The room felt vibrant and alive, his friend's eyes replaced by Dumbledore's. Without missing a beat, the thought of Ron's Origin came to his mind.

"That's why you don't have to worry about Ginny", Ron continued, "Cause in the end she's she princess in your story or whatever. In the end, the good guy always gets the girl mate. Don't waste your time worrying about stuff that's not even there. Focus on just spending time with her, chill out yeah?"

Cassandra, he thought sadly. Ron had stunned him into a silence, and was now simply smoking his joint and enjoying the natural breeze. Cassandra, the Ancient Greek sorceress who had been documented in myth and legend as the, ultimately correct, prophetess who would never be believed by the populace.

Most people had a simple Origin, and most went their whole lives without ever learning theirs. The Origin of the self was an ancient concept, that took years and years of study to materialize. Most wizards never bothered to learn their Origin, let alone try and use it. To touch one's Origin was a terrible curse, a regression in time and space that nature would not generally allow. However, magic had the odd tendency of pushing nature in the opposite direction, and amongst the most learned magi of the world there were those who relied wholly upon their Origin in combat.

Yet the road to reach one's Origin was arduous indeed. Most people, regardless of the situation they found themselves in, would never regress to their Origin. It was simply unnatural.

And yet it was also bizarrely unnatural to have a person as one's Origin.

Harry eyed Ron's red hair. Dumbledore had told them that, in the oldest tales, Cassandra was said to have had burning red hair that attracted the sight of the god Apollo. In their Third Year, when the traitor Black had prowled the castle and Hermione had gone missing, Ron's Origin had come screaming to the surface. His agony had been unbearable.

The truth of Ron's words weighed heavy on his shoulders. The knowledge of his friend's Origin lay in his mind like a curse. No, he would not let Dumbledore's fear become reality. Origin or no Origin, fate or free will he didn't care, he wouldn't let his friend perish like Cassandra.

Harry licked his dry lips. "Shit mate, you really shut me up. I didn't mean to doubt you or anything, you know it's just-"

Ron waved him off, handing Harry another joint. With a start, Harry realized the last one had fallen from his grasp during Ron's pseudo-speech. He took it gratefully.

Ron stood up and dusted off his robes. The wind in his hair and his burning blue eyes looking out into the empty sky, Ron looked bizarrely mature to Harry's eyes, despite the cigarette sticking out of his mouth. As the purple smoke worked its magic down his lungs, he felt himself give into it for the first time. The tension in his shoulders began to slip away. He remained with his back to the wall, letting his leg dangle off the edge of the balcony while Ron stood. They looked out to the castle together, quietly observing the throngs of students making their way from class to class.

"Shit man", said Ron, "I feel a little guilt playing hooky again today after seeing everyone done there."

Harry thanked God for the one small blessing that the Lord had let him have in this life. He'd never known real peace, or real family. But, here with Ron and in the Hospital Wing with Ginny, he felt like he had both. The one kindness God had seen fit to allow him was to let him stumble into Ron's compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

Harry let out a chuckle as he thought of what Ron had said. Had it all really been a coincidence? After the Dursley's had left him alone at the platform, roaring with laugher as they sped away, Harry had been just a frightened boy scared and alone. Then, he'd overheard a matronly woman, who would years later become the closest thing to a mother he'd ever known, scolding her children on how to get through. Something had driven that shy eleven-year old to ask the big happy group for help. They had arrived at exactly the same time, he and Ron, but only one of them had a family.

And, Harry thought as he looked up at his friend, Ron had seen fit to share. His hand came up to wipe the lingering moisture that had grown at his eyes.

"Anyways mate", Ron said, bringing their silence to an end, "You said that Ginny was the biggest problem you had on your mind. Man, you can be really dumb sometimes. So, what other tiny little problems did you have eh?"

Harry laughed. He felt much better, and with purple smoke in his lungs and bloodshot eyes he felt great.

"Shit, so you're not gonna believe this but I actually went down to the Chamber last night."

"Oh fuck dude", Ron said, "What for?"

"So, last time I was here I noticed some weird notes and scrolls hidden away in the Chamber", he lied, not wanting to disclose the real reason he had gone down there, "And I just sort of left them there. I didn't want to take them out, and the year was over. Well, since I got back I thought I might as well go grab them yeah?"

Ron eyed him warily. "Sure, I guess. What kind of shit was it?"

Harry felt a little uneasy, but he didn't want to lie anymore to Ron. "It was some pretty fucked up stuff. I couldn't understand any of it, truth be told. It was written in a crazy cipher. I tried deciphering it in the Chamber, but it was like nothing I had ever seen before. It wasn't anything like the rest of Slytherin's Blood Magic, that's for sure."

Ron nodded, urging him to continue. Harry didn't need legilimency to tell that he disapproved though.

"Anyways, cause they were so heavily ciphered they were hidden pretty well actually. Whatever they were though, the strong cipher wasn't even close to enough to mask the smell. You could've sensed these things a mile away. I thought I might take them back up, yeah, give them a look?"

"Shit Harry", Ron replied, "This sounds a lot more heavy than your other problem. So, what happened with these books and all? Don't tell me you accidentally blew up the Greenhouses or something?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah, here's the thing. So, when I left the Chamber I noticed that someone else had come down to the Maze while I had been in there. That was fucking weird, so I decided to follow them. They fucking weirdest shit happened man. I followed whoever it was all through the maze for like an hour. We went past all the exits, even the one that goes under the lake. Whoever this shithead was, he didn't act like he knew what the maze actually looked like on a map. Or, at least that's what I thought."

Ron seemed alarmed by his pause. "What do you mean 'that's what what you thought'?"

Harry winced. "Shit mate I fucked up real bad. Whoever it was just vanished on me. Fucking down in the dark I ended up losing whoever it was. I must've chased them for like an hour and a half but they just fucking vanished. I'm telling you, there's no exit that deep in the maze, and the trail just vanished."

Ron took in what he said quietly. He turned away from Harry, puffing away furiously at his joint. "Alright, not good. That place is messed up Harry, there's no reason to go that deep. They built a whole new one for the Triwizard Tournament for a reason you know. If we had the map, we could've given it a look but hey no harm, no foul yeah?"

Harry had been delaying telling Ron the crucial part of the story the entire time. "Mate, there's something else", he said, "While I was chasing this fucker down there, I dropped all the shit I brought with me down from the Chamber. I don't know what happened to it but-"

He stopped talking as he saw Ron's composure disappear in an instant. His friend turned deathly white, whirling around so fast to look at Harry that his cigarette fell from his mouth.

"What the actual fuck Harry! What the fuck! You left that shit down there!" he shouted, eliciting howls from owls rudely awoken.

Harry was taken aback by his sudden change. "Shit, I- Yeah I did but it can't be that big of an issue. Only a handful of people know about that place and we were so deep-"

He paused as Ron begun frantically shaking his head.

"No, no. Mate fuck I forgot to tell you. The night after the Welcoming Feast, first day of class and everything, I thought that it would've been a sick idea to have a party. You know for everyone to get over last year and just celebrate coming back with a bang yeah?" Ron said.

Harry nodded, not getting at what Ron was saying.

"I mean- It was my idea but like- Fuck, Katie and the rest of the team helped out and- Bloody hell Harry what were you thinking!" Ron said, his voice getting dangerously high pitched.

"Ron, I don't get it", Harry said as he stood up, "What does that have to do with this?"

"Mate we had the party down there. Like a hundred people, at least", Ron replied, "We decked it out and it was crazy, smoked up the entire maze and people were using it to make out and shit Harry, practically everyone knows about the entrance to..."

Harry's jaw nearly hit the floor. He regretted any associations he had made between Ron and wisdom.


End file.
